





. ■ 5 ; 
ww 





I! ill 


■ i ■■’■,■' 1 1 ■ * ' i. .•" i ili it **t t . i .!;{ i J ii 5 • iii' ' 


. , I . . k . 4 . . 1 > ' « > ^ t : : • • 






vt.i. ’•’-•viliViJ'lji: 


; • •• 1 ; ti! ■ r.:: tij; : 


;:it' f. :: : ■ 




; • 1 .' 
’ t ; : t : 


1 1 : ; ttt ; 


'It 


. r 






.•■ • i : i ;i*' t;i .'it ;’f j Mtsi 




.it; ', 3 1 V:!; : 5 :i Ui-iij j 

; i-‘ i n - 

iiiiiiiuiiiiiiiHiiuluuiuiiii 





,,, .k . , . , .« t 




;•• i;'.;.. ^ :v\:' ; ;i: : . i . : i T* tT;."; 1 : '“i i. 

;, ■ :'■ i '!■•■•■■•'•’'''•••; ;i , ii i 'ii' * V. ■ -iitii. 1 I 

^ ; :i •,• M '/it, ji ■i'i'.’ -i ii- 

• : ■ ■•;'••' ... ' -IS ; . itii .1:1; i 

^ ‘ ; ! ' , y; '.i • ; I; : i : ’ liiT; )’. • i • iiir • ; -.j:! ; . j - • - ; ;i»ii i tH H 

u: ti* ir>* 1 it ; ^ 


I ■■.' ■••,.•.: • ■' i 'ii ’ ;i .: -itlK* i’.-'i’ Jj ;;;i;i ,1 :'.:ii 

:.•. ... . •• ‘ 1 ;: •.•' J'*. ' I It •, 1 . l, -. . 1 . 

.;;5 .11 . . f . v. i - i •; ! I ^ 

m-Mmmmmmmmm 

-•■■• ■ •••1 :• ••iS' i'.’lv !*.■'•:■•' : {■|,i >i J >•• !'• iTi • ti h i! <’ ! 

i H* t : 'i? i; i -V.t '.ivUiu 
.tit.hi::..-:. -rt'.'tliiitilii ::ii:;::H;i55;:::ilHlSij 


. tu;* o;) 






'Cfc ® • * * \0 o V* s * -^j, ■*'0 • A * *0' 

• *’*•<# 0 '^ 0 ® ** ® ♦ -A.^ •'■'*.• Or 

^itf?Pp^ “* ^ 0 • c«55vtv.*.^ ^ C • 


O M O 



V 0 


• I 


»■” b5^ ^ 

A,V V <^!V 

^r> . ^- 

*• ^• 

Q -4L^ • Or fc ® ® ® ♦ cD 


t » 


° ^ 


’oV 


Nr ^ 

♦ *' 


•T7,-’ aO-* V'‘i^’\'?,’«- '^.‘^•’aO ■ 


® N 



- ♦ ^0 
• "* ^o 

•'« **0 - ^ 

aV » \^’'^ »1 '' * O/I* 


W: j9 -nt. *. 

* . 0 ^ ■% 

cv aO^ ’ilrw:* * 





^ A« 

> % • 


>, ' 


o " o 





'» • ‘ * aC>' 

* V , t ' » ^ qV o N « 

♦w^’ c- • 

^0^ O 

<5^ ® 0 M o ® 4S^ O ® a . ^ 

* • . , \V ^ ^ 

♦ ^ V f ’ • ®-r ^;> 

rJ* ♦f({\s» A.® ^rv 

♦ 4? 'C^ • 

X* ^ «* 

-< rk> o •* ^ 






iP *. 






v \i->w * ** ? ^ •• * vP V ^ 

A <^ ,0^ ^ ^ ^ • 

^ t-'J/- ^ ,0^ oil”” "^o A*’' .‘'•. 



^O • 


o H 




• • i- 


V 

♦ ^ 


i ■» C^^r. -• '^ 

,(r ^ ^ ^ 

y c ° " ® -» • «• ' • ^ 

' ^ ♦Vz/Z^’ 


v» 


«A 




J> 

z; vP9' ° 

7 * < ^ 56 y/^% ' if5fvv\!v 

<=> wmw 

.A <v -f,T- -O 

1^ a ^ ® -a "^Jk Or *. O ® i* 

^ y^jT??^^ ^ (y * 

0^ : 

V 




%*°”°’v<'’^ ... %*"’‘o^ 

■• 'i6& c^-'^'^ *' 


O M O 



♦ A^ o v^^Xr ♦ 

A <r^ 'o.r 


' * . * ' v^ 

©O J-i’* C°' 

• 45 ^ 




O ^ * J 








p S?, :., 'r' 






« • 


IT: /-.jail , ^ 









■ .„/:4, >:•*;* va^- 

« ,**M . - T V • • I 4 

* . J.'- ^ ■ 




:a' 


- r*^ 


?• 


:. iv 


II 


ewkwf.'f^ ;* Sf 



• 


« V 


V JC\ . • j/'-ii;,: T? , 

A k jn.J^ : ^ a U ' ^ ^ . 







« - 



JUDITH HAD SPOKEN WITH HER CHIN HELD HIGH. Page Sj . 
Frontispiece. 


/ 

A NEST OF GIRLS 


OR 

BOARDING-SCHOOL DAYS 



BY 

ELIZABETH WESTYN TIMLOW 

AUTHOR OF THE “ CRICKET ” BOOKS, “ DOROTHY DOT,” ETC. 



NEW YORK 

E. p. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

One Copy Received 

JUN 4 1901 

Copyright entry 

CLASS <^XXc. No. 
/? 6 ? 
COPY B. 


Copyright, igoi 
BY 

E. P. DUTTON & CO. 


Ube iftnfcftcibocbcr press, IRew l^orb 





TO 

MY SISTERS 


i 



\ 




CONTENTS 


K' 


• \ 


■CHAPTER 

I. THE TWENTY-FIFTH OF SEPTEMBER . 

II. A SURPRISE 

III. SETTLING DOWN 

I^•. romelia’s feast 

V. PAYING THE PIPER 

VI. Hester’s adorer 

VII. SATURDAY AFTERNOON .... 

VIII. GOING HOME 

IX. THE “merry chanters” .... 

X. THE “SIN-NICS” 

XI. THE CAMPAIGN OF HESTER 

XII. JUDITH 

" " XIII. AN AFTERNOON TEA 

XIV. WHERE IS HESTER? 

XV. MRS. CONWAY 

XVI. THE SENTENCE 

XVII. BASKET-BALL 
XVIII. IN THE CRYPT . 

XIX. WINIFRED . 

XX. A NEW COMBINATION 

XXI. MAY . 

XXII. MAY {continued) 
XXIII. JUNE. 

EPILOGUE . 



PAGE 
. I 

. l8 

• 36 
51 

. 77 

. 91 

• 113 

. 132 

. 145 

. 162 

. 182 

196 
. 216 

. 242 

.* 261 
. 278 
. 286 

298 
. 322 

• 330 

• 343 

. 360 

= 377 

• 391 


V 




ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

V- JUDITH HAD SPOKEN WITH HER CHIN HELD HIGH. Frontispiece 85 

^ WINIFRED DOUGLAS ARRIVES Title-page 

THE GIRL HAD PERCHED HERSELF ON THE FOOT-BOARD . 13 

’ MARGARET SAT ON THE FLOOR 3O 

“JUDITH CHAMPNEY ! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?”. 60 
TWO YOUNG FELLOWS WERE USHERED IN . . . .120 

STANDING BY THE WINDOW IN DEEP THOUGHT . . .159 

^ SHE DREW HERSELF UP WITH EYES FLASHING . . . I92 

“WE WENT AWAY — COCOONS: WE RETURN — BUTTERFLIES” . 366 


vn 



A NEST OF GIRLS. 


CHAPTER I, 


THE TWENTY-FIFTH OF SEPTEMBER. 
INIFRED DOUGLAS drew the shade of 



V y the car window a trifle higher, and settled 
herself more comfortably. 

** If all the roofs could be caught off all the 
houses in the United States during this week, what 
a multitude of good-byes one would see,’' she 
mused. ** Think of all the college students getting 
off for the different colleges and all the boys and 
girls for all their respective boarding-schools! I 
wonder how many there would be altogether.” 

She abandoned this calculation, not being of a 
mathematical bent of mind, and turned another 
page of her book mechanically ; she was reading 
her thoughts, rather than the printed page before 
her. The heavy drops of a sudden thunder-shower 
into which the flying train had whisked beat against 
the pane and turned her attention to that quarter. 

“ I hope it won’t last till we get to Elm City,” 
she said. ” I hate to arrive in a rain. One gets 


2 


A Nest of Girls. 


so draggled. Oh, yes, I could take a carriage, I 
suppose, but if I am starting out to earn my own 
living it is rather absurd to begin with carriages.'' 

She looked out at the rain-blurred landscape. It 
was dreary and so was her frame of mind. 

“ How I dread facing those girls! I do not like 
girls of that age. They are so critical and snippy. 
I know I was at seventeen. What a horrid little 
supercilious thing I was then ! • It ought to give me 
patience, but I 'm afraid it won’t. I wonder if 
they 'll guess that I am nearly frightened out of my 
shoes at the idea of facing them all." 

"How absurd! " after a pause. " An M.A. of 
Wellesley College! A Shakespeare Society girl! 
J unior President ! Afraid — of — a — parcel — of — 
girls! Yes, Winifred Douglas, you are quaking to 
such an extent, that only pride keeps you from get- 
ting out at the next station and telegraphing to 
Mrs. Conway, ‘ Serious accident. Loss of an im- 
portant organ. ' Namely, heart. * Supply my place ! ' 
Then I would ignominiously turn tail and go home. 
How mother and the boys would laugh at me! " 

She turned another page, in order to pretend to 
herself that she was reading. 

“ Oh, girls ! girls ! ” her thoughts went on. Will 
there be any nice, bright, frank, enthusiastic girl 
among you ? But why should n't there be? Mrs. 
Mitchell wrote me that I was very fortunate in 


Boarding-School Days. 


3 


securing a place at St. Ursula’s, for that Mrs. Con- 
way is a woman in a thousand, and she has the 
nicest girls from everywhere. 

“ But girls of sixteen or seventeen are so different 
from what they are before or afterwards. How 
funny we always thought the Freshmen were! 
And I know that I was just as funny and just as 
queer, when I was sixteen, and when I was a 
Freshman.” 

Hartford! ” called the brakeman, as the train 
slackened speed and stopped. 

Winifred Douglas idly watched the people fill up 
the car, wondering if by any chance some of the 
pretty girls who passed down the aisle were bound 
for St. Ursula’s. She laughed at herself, but could 
not get rid of that ” shelf in her throat,” to use her 
old childish expression for the physical feeling of 
dread that everybody knows so well. 

It was by her own choice and not of necessity, 
that she had accepted the position offered her, of 
teacher of English Literature and History, in St. 
Ursula’s School. Life at home seemed empty after 
the full round of college days. There were other 
children, an older and a younger sister, and two 
brothers, so that Winifred could leave with a clear 
conscience. She intended to serve an apprentice- 
ship in teaching for several years, and then she 
meant to have a school of her own, on the most 


4 


A Nest of Girls. 


approved lines. She was really delighted that this 
opportunity of teaching in St. Ursula’s had been 
offered her, for the school had a high reputation. 
It was only the accident of a teacher, who had been 
already engaged, being suddenly and critically ill, 
that had given her the chance. Mrs. Conway had 
telegraphed to Wellesley, whence she drew her sup- 
ply of teachers, and Winifred’s name had been given 
her, with highest praise. Only the week before it 
had all been settled, and Winifred hardly realized 
her good fortune till she was really on her way. 
With all the rush of last things, she had had not a 
moment to think of her personal future till she was 
fairly started. She began to have the sense of utter 
inadequateness to the situation, which is always 
overpowering on the eve of any new venture when 
it is just too late to retract. 

“ Can I teach?” she asked herself, forlornly. 
” I feel as if I did n’t know anything. And board- 
ing-school is so different from college. I wish I ’d 
been sent away to school ! 

”I wonder if I ’ll ever have a minute to myself. 
Let me see. What are my duties ? There are more 
than thirty girls in the house. 'School till one. 
Lunch. Walk. Study-hour. Dinner. Parlor. 
Study-hour. Bed. Sometimes shopping. Some- 
times special duties. Church. When will I ever 
get any time to myself ? 


Boarding-School Days. 


5 


I wonder if girls of that age are as sentimental 
as the little Freshmen used to be, and get ‘ crushes ’ 
on each other. Do you suppose that any of our 
professors ever dreaded to meet us in class as I 
dread these youngsters ? There was that red-haired 
little Miss Bernstein in Sophomore Latin. How 
scared she used to look ! And I never imagined how 
dreadful it is to be really scared. We girls used to 
say in fun, that we knew she was frightened to 
death at us, but if I ’d really guessed that this was 
what she was feeling, I dare say I ’d have — pre- 
sented her with chocolates, ad libitum. I know I 
used to feel there were no woes that chocolates 
could not alleviate.’' 

The rain fell faster and faster; the lightning was 
so vivid that most of the passengers had drawn 
down their window-shades. Winifred kept hers up, 
with her face close to the pane. She was taking in 
the wonderful cloud effects, even while her mind 
was busy with her prospects. 

“ What station is this ? I can’t see. By four 
o’clock I ’ll have arrived and have established my- 
self in my room, and the dreaded advent will be 
over. Wonder if many girls will have come. Dread- 
ful little creatures! What shall I talk about to 
them ? What do girls like ? I remember that I 
was much afraid of being patronized by older peo- 
ple, when I was a girl. 


6 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Who ’d have thought that I would turn shy at 
this advanced stage of my existence ! I never was 
shy in my life before, not even when I first went to 
college. But then, Freshmen are too green to be 
shy. Of course, I felt queer, for the place was so 
big, and the Sophomores looked so haughty, and it 
was so long before I could find out where I was to 
go, or what I was to do, but I never felt shy. 

“ And now, O, Winifred Douglas, quaking at a 
set of babies of sixteen ! Sit up immediately, put 
on your hat, and look cheerful.” 

Winifred Douglas looked full five years short of 
her four and twenty, for college girls almost invari- 
ably look younger than society girls of the same age. 
She was very pretty, for Irish ancestors had given 
her the proverbial blue-gray eyes, washed in with a 
smutty finger. She was tall in figure, slender and 
extremely graceful, charming in manner, — again 
with a hint of the Irish in her delicious way of 
always saying the right thing — and people usually 
called her “ perfectly fascinating.” More persons 
loved her devotedly than she loved in return, but 
she had the pretty, instinctive art of caressing 
rather by tone and look than by actual touch, a 
manner always flattering. It gives the recipient a 
highly favored, inner-circle feeling. She had a 
quiet little touch of dignity and self-possession that 
closely resembles the manner that one has, when 


Boarding-School Days. 7 

one feels equal to the situation. In Winifred's 
case, it was an instinctive, deep-seated self-distrust, 
which pride would not let appear. 

They rode out of the rain, at last, and with the 
return of the sunshine, Winifred’s spirits rose. 
Nevertheless, when Elm City was finally reached it 
was with a groan from her very boots that she gath- 
ered together her impedimenta and left the train. 

Following the directions that Mrs, Conway had 
given her, she soon arrived at 67 Tupelo Street. 
The house was a fine old colonial mansion, with a 
covered archway at the second story connecting it 
with a similar house. Two or three girls, chattering 
and laughing, laden with handbags and umbrellas, 
went up the steps ahead of her. They were evi- 
dently old pupils returning, and Winifred actually 
walked past the house to give them time to get in. 
The sight of them gave her an insane desire to run 
back to the corner, take a car, and disappear. 

'‘Winifred Douglas!” she said, taking herself 
mentally by the shoulders, “ stop this nonsense, 
march up to that door, and plunge boldly into the 
midst of the Philistines. They certainly can’t bite 
you, and if you don’t like it, why, you need n’t stay 
after Christmas.” 

It was a relief to say this, even while she knew 
that wild horses could n’t drag her away from her 
work, once she embarked on it. 


8 


A Nest of Girls. 


The girls she had seen arriving had already van- 
ished when Winifred was ushered into the reception- 
room. In a small inner room, Mrs. Conway stood 
talking rapidly in French to a pretty little French 
woman. She was evidently keeping half a dozen 
matters in train at once, for she was glancing over 
two or three letters as she talked, making pencil 
notes on the envelopes and now and then interrupt- 
ing her fluent French to give an order to a trim 
maid waiting near. A workman stood in the door- 
way and she turned to him likewise, with a brief 
order which he had asked for. In the reception- 
room there was also waiting a somewhat grimy, 
foreign-looking little man, evidently Italian. 

Winifred, watching her future chief with much 
interest, fell in love with her on the spot. She was 
a tall, grand-looking woman, with prematurely whit- 
ened hair, if the smooth-browed face told the truth, 
rolled back from her broad forehead in a pictur- 
esque fashion that exactly suited her. Her eyes 
— were they dark-blue or black ? — were large and 
beautifully set, and her whole face was full of 
strength and sweetness. There was comfort and 
refuge and rest in her whole personality. Winifred 
felt she could listen all day to that full, rich 
voice, with its gracious cadence and constant 
inflection. 

In five minutes Mrs. Conway came through the 


Boarding-School Days. 9 

portieres with her peculiarly long, free step, noise- 
less yet energetic, and intensely characteristic. 

A very warm welcome. Miss Douglas! It was 
so good of you to come early.” Her cordial hand- 
clasp cheered Winifred’s heart. 

She turned to the little foreigner and addressed 
him in his own tongue with the same smooth fluency 
that was observable in her French. 

” Signor Paulini, may I ask you to be graciously 
patient for a few minutes longer ? It is so good of 
you to wait.” 

” Now come this way,” she went on, taking Miss 
Douglas into the inner room. ” Let me introduce 
you to Madame de Forestier, who is to be one of 
the faculty. She is a newcomer like yourself. You 
speak French ? Oh, how charming! Now Madame 
will feel less like a stranger. Her room, like yours, 
is in the other building. Most of the rooms in this 
house are given up for school purposes. The draw- 
ing-room on the other side of the hall we use for a 
study-parlor, and back of that is the school-parlor. 
Would n’t you both like to go to your rooms now ? 
If you will meet me here. Miss Douglas, at five 
o’clock, after you have rested a little, we will talk 
matters over. My regular study is on the next 
floor, but to-day I must stay here. Brenda ” (to the 
trim maid), ” show Miss Douglas to the Thistle room 
and Madame de Forestier to the Tulip room.” 


lO 


A Nest of Girls. 


Brenda led the way through the hall and upstairs, 
across the archway leading to the other house, then 
down another hall, to a sunny little corner room on 
the third story. It had nothing in it, of course, but 
the necessary furniture, single bed, chiffonier, wash- 
stand, table, book-case, a low rocking-chair, and 
a straight-backed chair. The curtains at the win- 
dow were fresh and dainty, however, and Wini- 
fred was too used to the bareness of college rooms 
to notice that appearance. That would all be 
changed when the smaller of her trunks had given 
up its contents. 

She had encountered girls here and there on her 
upward way. Some were darting in and out of 
rooms with all the assurance of old inhabitants ; two 
were chattering like magpies, cuddled close to- 
gether on a window-seat in one of the halls, two 
more were leaning in a helpless, unattached way 
against a doorway as she passed ; across the hall was 
a mother unpacking for a very weepy little maid of 
twelve or fourteen, and as she did so giving her 
manifold instructions about the care of her clothes. 
Winifred noticed, to her surprise and relief, that it 
was all very like her own college corridor on a small 
scale. 

“ But I ’ll have these girls to keep in order,” she 
groaned. 

With the foresight born of long experience, she 


Boarding-School Days. 1 1 

had put a pad of paper and envelopes in her travel- 
ling-bag, and she took them out now, with her 
fountain-pen, to write the home-letter announcing 
her safe arrival, in order to while away the tiresome 
time of waiting for the coming of her trunk. Just 
as she had stamped and sealed her letter, there came 
a vigorous knock at her door, and it burst open, 
without waiting for an answer. 

How do you do ? ” said the impetuous new- 
comer, entering like a whirlwind. “ I have been 
wondering who was to have this room this year, and 
I just popped in to see.” 

There was something so infectious in the merri- 
ment of the laugh and in the voice, unusually full 
and rich for a girl, that Winifred rose, smiling, in 
response to the unceremonious greeting. 

” That ’s very good of you. My name is Douglas. 
And yours ? ” 

” Virginia Henderson, at your service,” with a 
military salute. ” I wonder why in the world Mrs. 
Conway gave you this room. I wanted it dread- 
fully.’’ 

” Really, I don’t know,” answered Winifred, 
amused. ” Where is your room ? ” 

” Clover room, three doors down. Oh, it ’s good 
enough, but I wanted this corner room alone. My 
chum is not coming back again this year — worse 
luck! — so I ’m studying the new arrivals, you see. 


12 


A Nest of Girls. 


Somebody has to take the vacant place. I saw you 
come and I rather liked your looks.’' 

The girl’s coolness somewhat staggered Winifred. 
Serene in the consciousness of her four and twenty 
years and in the dignity of her new position, it did 
not occur to her that any one could mistake her for 
a new pupil. 

“ I hope we ’ll be friends, surely,” she answered, 
smiling in spite of herself. It was so absurd to in- 
spire no more awe than this! Yet she felt a little 
worried, too. 

Then she studied the visitor on her own account. 

The girl was not exactly pretty, but oddly at- 
tractive. A quantity of reddish-brown hair was 
piled lightly on top of a small, shapely head with 
little curly rings lying on a forehead that would have 
looked too high and too broad if not so softened. 
She had a large mouth, easily forgiven, however, 
because, in smiling, it disclosed a set of perfect 
white teeth and wholesome gums. Her eyes were 
the reddish-brown shade of her hair and her skin was 
of the exquisitely delicate variety belonging to that 
coloring which freckles badly. These freckles 
caused their owner to mourn, as Winifred soon 
found out. 

Miss Douglas recognized the type instantly, and 
knew that she was a popular, much-sought-after 
girl. This gay, bright, reckless temperament 



THE GIRL HAD PERCHED HERSELF ON THE FOOT-BOARD. 


Page IJ. 





13 


Boarding-School Days. 

always is. But that she was a lady and well-bred 
showed in every motion and accent, in spite of her 
cool unconventionality. 

The girl had perched herself on the foot-board of 
the bed leaning forward meditatively as she talked, 
with her chin in her hands and her elbows on her 
knees, while her heels kicked the wood, maintaining 
a position impossible to any one but a schoolgirl. 

“ Is n’t it stupid waiting for the trunks to 
come ?” she asked. “ I always threaten to send 
mine the day before. But goodness! it ’s as much 
as mamma and I and Marie can do, all working to- 
gether, to get me off, now, on time, let alone the 
day before.” 

“You are an old scholar, then ?“ asked Wini- 
fred, sitting down in her rocking-chair, after having 
it refused, with scorn, by her visitor, who preferred 
the more luxurious foot-board. 

“ Old ? I ’m an antediluvian! This is my fourth 
year. Want to know my biography ? My honored 
father is a Presbyterian clergyman, and I ’m trying 
to convert him to the Episcopal church because 
he ’d look so perfectly sweet in robes. Mamma is 
an Episcopalian. I’ m the oldest olive-branch, and 
am considered the flower of the flock. The rest of 
the family consists of Violet, and she ’s a holy ter- 
ror. She ’s five. Worst child you ever saw. Per- 
fect little fiend. Interested ? “ 


14 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Exceedingly,” returned Miss Douglas truth- 
fully. 

“ Father has a church in Hartford. Mamma 
means to keep me here in school till I am entirely 
grown up and ready to come out, and then I can 
go home and be introduced and make much more 
sensation than if I had just been at home all the 
time and people had seen me right along. Do you 
see 

“ Oh ! ” said Winifred rather vaguely. In her 
college course she had so entirely forgotten that 
any one looked forward to a society life as a matter 
of course, that she could not at once focus her mind 
on the situation. 

“ Yes," pursued Virginia, and as I ’m eighteen 
next winter, this is my last year. Incidentally, I 
graduate. Mamma will take me abroad next sum- 
mer to put a little polish on me, she says ; then we 
are to come home and I 'm to have a swell some- 
thing or other to introduce me. Then I ’ll be 
launched.” 

“ Is n’t this rather an unusual program for a min- 
ister’s daughter?’’ suggested Winifred. “What 
does your father think of all this ? ’’ 

“ Well, sometimes he does have wild notions 
about my being an ornament to the parish,’’ ad- 
mitted Virginia nonchalantly. “ But mamma and 
papa made a bargain when they were married, I 


15 


Boarding-School Days. 

believe, that mamma should do as she liked about 
society. That ’s why I ’m such a mixture, Miss 
Douglas. One side of me is dreadfully pious, though 
you would n’t suspect it. Nobody does.” 

Winifred laughed outright. 

” I suppose you are anxious for the end of your 
school-days, then, with all this in prospect ? ” 

” Oh, it will be lots of sport, but I am willing to 
wait. A bud does n’t have so much fun if she ’s 
too young.” 

Winifred sat speechless. 

” But I sort of like it here, too,” pursued Miss 
Henderson, lurching forward and recovering her- 
self. ” Mrs. Conway is a dear old soul, only I ’ll 
give you a tip. Whatever you do, don’t dawdle. 
It makes her as mad as fury and that ’s not com- 
fortable. You feel so small after one of her talk- 
ings, and I object to feeling small. As small as 
that, I mean.” 

** You irreverent little thing! ” thought Winifred. 

The idea of calling that magnificent-looking 
woman, * a dear old thing! ’ ” Aloud she asked 
what subjects Mrs. Conway taught. 

” Logic and Psychology. She ’s a daisy at them, 
too. What are you going to take ? ” 

” I am to have English Literature and History, I 
believe,” answered Winifred, suddenly wondering 
if her duties as mentor ought to begin now, and if 


i6 


A Nest of Girls. 


she was justified in letting Miss Henderson sit on 
her foot-board in such a d^gag^e attitude and talk 
thus about her superiors. 

“ What History ? Is that all ? No languages ? 
No Music ? No Psychology ? No nothing ? ” de- 
manded Miss Henderson. 

“ French, Roman, and American Constitutional 
History, I believe,” answered Winifred laughing. 
“ One can’t do everything.” 

” Oh, of course not,” returned Virginia civilly, 
but her expression showed that she thought one 
might do more — as a student. 

” Well, — English Literature,” she resumed. ** I 
have Literature, of course. Do you have first or 
second year ? ” 

” Both, I suppose, ” said Winifred. 

” Both ? How funny! I have Livy this year 
and Metaphysics and Logic and History of Art, 
and French, of course, and German and Music, 
Oh, I have to hum! ” 

” I should think so! Do you have it all every 
day ?” 

” Oh, dear no! Things alternate. Can’t have 
more than four subjects on any one day. Who ’s 
that ? ” Pricking up her ears as the sound of a 
new arrival was heard in the hall. 

** Gee ! it ’s Maud Perry ! She said she would n’t 
be hired to come back this year.” 


Boarding-School Days. 1 7 

Virginia slipped off the foot-board and prepared 
to depart. 

“ I can’t bear the girl,” she stopped to add. 
“ Somebody did say last year that Mrs. Conway 
refused to take her back. She would n’t either, if 
it were any one else. She ’s pretty particular, but 
Maud’s mother and she were schoolmates, they 
say. Good-bye, Miss Douglas. I fancy I ’ll like 
you. Just run over to the Clover room if you want 
anything. I ’ll come in and take you down to din- 
ner. Good-bye. I hear Judith Champney’s voice,” 
and Miss Henderson whirled off and Miss Douglas 
heard a gale of laughter and of greetings in the hall. 


CHAPTER II. 


A SURPRISE. 


INIFRED felt rather dazed. She did not 



V V for an instant imagine that Virginia had 
taken her for another school-girl. 

“ Well! she said, presently, but the ejaculation 
meant a good deal. 

A few minutes later the bumping and thumping 
of trunks in the corridor announced the arrival of 
the baggage. Directly after, Brenda knocked at 
the door and the trunks appeared. Winifred fell 
busily to work, with a deftness born of long expe- 
rience. Things flew into their places as if by 
magic, and when Winifred straightened her back at 
five o’clock she looked quite at home. There was 
the pretty table cover that was new for her Senior 
year; the bureau cover and the dainty silver trifles; 
the silk blanket across the foot of her bed ; the down 
cushions for the hard little rocking-chair ; a soft 
lamb’s wool rug by the bed ; the etchings that had 
adorned her college-room walls standing in a line 
against the trunks waiting to be hung when their 
owner had time to consider the matter; the tiny 
tea-equipage, and the little Japanese folding-table, 


Boarding-School Days. 19 

that held it. They all gave the room an inhabited 
air that transformed it. 

“ Oh, me! suddenly ejaculated Winifred, in 
horror. “ I nearly forgot that Mrs. Conway wanted 
to see me at five ! This is a pretty way to begin I 
I ’ll fly.” Which she proceeded to do. 

Fortunately for her reputation for promptness, 
Mrs. Conway herself was late, for a departing 
mamma still buttonholed her in the hall when Wini- 
fred entered the reception-room. 

Quite to her astonishment. Miss Douglas enjoyed 
the talk that followed. Mrs. Conway was clear and 
definite. She knew exactly what she wished and 
expected of her teachers, and divided the various 
duties incident to a boarding-school with perfect 
justice as well as with the utmost consideration of 
the need for rest and recreation. 

Then followed some talk about the few rules and 
regulations, for the honor-system was carried out 
as far as practical, and there were “ honor privi- 
leges ” to which those of the new girls were ad- 
mitted who kept their credit good for the first three 
months. 

“ The girls call it ‘ winning their spurs,' and a 
dire disgrace it is to forfeit these privileges after 
they are once accorded,” finished Mrs. Conway. 
” Now, Miss Douglas, I think that is all for the 
present. If you want anything of me at any time 


20 


A Nest of Girls. 


you will always find me in my study, from lunch 
till half-past two. Come to me freely at any mo- 
ment of day or night, my dear. And remember 
that I do want you to be comfortable and happy 
here and not overworked.*’ 

There had been several arrivals and consequent 
interruptions even during this short talk, when Mrs. 
Conway was called to welcome one and another, 
and despatch them under Brenda’s care to their re- 
spective rooms. Just at this point of their talk the 
bell rang again, and Brenda ushered in a tall, fine- 
looking man and a slight, pretty girl. 

They were evidently old friends, and Mrs. Con- 
way went forward cordially. 

“ Dr. Ward ! I am so glad to see you again ! and 
this is Marjorie — no, Margaret, it is to be, I re- 
member. Oh, how much she looks like you. Dr. 
Ward!” 

” So they say. I can’t tell you how glad we are 
to leave our little girl in your care, Mrs. Conway. 
Mrs. Ward sent much love to you. No, I can’t 
stay to dinner, thank you. I must see Dr. Macken- 
zie and one or two others, and catch the midnight 
train back to Boston to-night. We doctors can’t be 

spared long, you know. Now, my little girl ” 

The newcomer clung closely to her father for a 
moment, while Mrs. Conway considerately stepped 
back and talked to Miss Douglas. 


Boarding-School Days. 


21 


“ Now, Mrs. Conway, good-bye,” said Dr. Ward, 
still holding his daughter on his left arm while he 
put out his right hand. “ Good-bye again, my 
little daughter ; Christmas will soon be here.” 

Another kiss and he was gone. 

“ Come here, Margaret, and be introduced to 
Miss Douglas,” said Mrs. Conway. “You will 
have the room next hers. This is the daughter of 
an old schoolmate of mine. Miss Douglas, though I 
have not seen her for years. We were at Miss 
Porter’s together. Will you take Marjorie — I 
mean Margaret — up-stairs with you. Miss Douglas ? 
You see, this child has always been called Marjorie 
to distinguish her from her mother. She will have 
the Chestnut room next you, with Hester Cameron. 
I hope that you and Hester will be good friends, 
dear.” 

Miss Douglass went up-stairs with the new arrival. 
More girls were running about from room to room, 
and lively greetings were being exchanged on every 
side, while glances of undisguised interest were cast 
at every newcomer. Winifred, having this new girl 
in tow, began to feel like an old inhabitant herself. 

Her first acquaintance, Virginia Henderson, 
darted out of a room as they passed. 

“ Oh, there you are! where have you been ? I 
ran into your room a few minutes ago to see if you 
wanted anything, and there you were, as straight 


22 


A Nest of Girls. 


as a trivet, already. I went in, when nobody an- 
swered. Where have you been ? ” 

“ Down-stairs in the reception room,” answered 
Winifred, wondering if this inquisitive young wo- 
man would keep up her air of bon camaraderie in 
the schoolroom. ” This is another new arrival. 
Miss Ward. This is Miss — Henderson, I think you 
said ?” 

Yes, but we don’t stay Missed very long,” re- 
turned Virginia. “ Where does Miss Ward go ? ” 

“ The Chestnut room. Where is it ? ” 

“ Right here. Next yours. All the rooms have 
flowers painted on the panel, and they are papered 
to correspond. Cute idea, is n’t it ? I wish you 
were to room with me, Miss Ward. I ’m dying to 
know whom I ’m to be with. My chum is n’t com- 
ing back, as she is ill, and, anyway, Mrs. Conway 
generally has the old girls room with new ones. I 
don’t mind. I like a new try. Hallo, Val! Just 
come ? ” 

Miss Douglas took Margaret into her quarters, 
feeling a very motherly sense of protection, such as 
she used to have for the Freshmen. 

‘‘ If you want anything, I ’m next door,” she 
said cordially. ” The girls appear to be very 
friendly, so I hope you won’t be homesick. Your 
trunk will probably be here soon, as they seem to 
bring them promptly.” 


23 


Boarding-School Days. 

You are so kind,” returned the girl prettily. 
“ I rather dreaded coming, though I do not think 
I shall be homesick. Yes, I hope my trunk will 
come soon; does n’t the room look funny and 
bare ?” 

“ They generally do, in schools, till one gets 
one’s own things around,” answered Winifred, her 
heart warming to the graceful, well-bred girl, with 
her dear Boston accent. 

” Is n’t she a dear ?” she thought. ” If they 
are all like this child, I will rejoice.” Then she 
added aloud, 

‘‘ I will leave you to freshen up for dinner, if you 
wish, for I think it will soon be time for it now. 
I ’ll come for you when the bell rings.” 

” Thank you very much,” said Margaret, with so 
sweet an air that Winifred kissed her on the spot. 

Virginia, with several others, stood in the hall- 
window laughing and talking, as Miss Douglas left 
the Chestnut room. 

” First night is great fun,” Virginia was saying. 
” Some of the girls won’t be back till to-morrow, 
but I would n’t miss it. I ’m generally the first 
arrival. Oh, here ’s Miss Douglas! Come here 
and be introduced,” and she appropriated her in 
her off-hand way. 

” This is Judith Champney, and she ’s much nicer 
than she looks,” she began. 


24 


A Nest of Girls. 


** Glad to see you, Miss Douglas. I have to 
balance her, ’ ’ returned the girl called J udith. ‘ ‘ She 
looks much nicer than she is. So unfortunate.” 

” This,” went on Virginia, quite undisturbed, ” is 
our Propriety. Miss Clifford, make your bow. 
You know you are. This is Miss Douglas, and she 
has the Thistle room.” 

Valentine Clifford, a slow-moving girl, with a 
quiet, refined face, but with no special beauty, put 
out her hand, with a pleasant word of welcome to 
Winifred. The latter noticed with dismay that all 
the girls seemed as self-possessed as she was herself, 
and had the same air of simple good-fellowship tow- 
ward her that Virginia had shown, but without a 
trace of the respect that she remembered always 
showing toward a teacher in manner, at least. 
Winifred could not see that she herself did not look 
a day older than any of them, and that none of 
them guessed that she was not a student like 
themselves. 

” Here 's another new girl,” exclaimed Virginia, 
catching one passing by the arm, and swinging her 
around. ” What did you say your name is ? You 
have to be introduced.” 

This was a pale, red-haired, pasty-faced damsel, 
far too richly dressed for a school-girl. 

“I’m Romelia Dransfield,” she said in answer to 
Virginia’s question, in a soft, slow, doughy voice. 


25 


Boarding-School Days. 

that matched her skin. “ And I think I heard you 
tell some one this afternoon that you are Miss 
Perry ? 

I think you did n’t! I ’d shoot myself if I 
were Maud Perry. Oh, there she is ! We were 
just talking about you, Maud. Miss Dransfield 
got us mixed up. I knew you would n’t feel com- 
plimented.'’ 

Maud Perry joined the group. A very slight, 
small, graceful figure, a narrow, but otherwise pretty 
face, fluffy light-brown hair, soft, brown eyes, which 
she was fond of casting up, appealingly, made up 
Maud Perry of outward view. 

If Miss Dransfield gets me mixed up with any- 
body, she! ’ll wish she had n’t,” she said carelessly. 

Winifred was struck by her manner. All the 
other girls whom she had seen, had cordial, frank 
manners towards both newcomers and old pupils. 
It seemed to be the spirit of the school. Maud’s 
habitual air was one that bordered on insolence. 
The very languidness, which was really tempera- 
mental, took on an appearance of superciliousness. 
Winifred conceived an instant and intense dislike to 
her, and then felt like boxing her own ears for con- 
descending to such a thing. Maud took no notice 
of the strangers in the group, beyond the most in- 
different nod possible, and passed on. 

Just then the gong sounded for dinner. 


26 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Come, Miss Douglas, I '11 take you down,” 
said Virginia, swinging around, and making a face 
at the retreating Maud. “ Nasty little thing! ” 

“ I have a charge of my own, though. Can you 
convoy us both ? ” asked Winifred. “ She ’s a still 
later comer.” 

” That pretty girl that you came upstairs with ? 
Of course I can. I ’ll knock. Ho, there! ” 

The door flew open at the summons. 

Dinner!” announced their guide, and uncere- 
moniously whisking Margaret’s hand through one 
arm, and Winifred’s through the other, she marched 
off. Judith Champney and Valentine Clifford were 
in front of them. 

” By the way, has any one seen Emmie yet ? ” 
asked Judith, over her shoulder, as they went down 
the corridor and through the arched way. 

” Had forgotten all about her,” answered Vir- 
ginia. ” Probably she ’ll turn up to-night. Emmie 
is Miss Emerson, a teacher here,” she explained to 
Miss Douglas. ” Nice little soul enough, but the 
prtmmQst little body. I hope no one has run away 
with her.” 

” Imagine any one bold enough to run away with 
Emmie! ” laughed a girl behind. 

Winifred felt some very unpleasant sensations. 
So this was a sample of the way they would talk of 
her when she was n’t around ! Then she remem- 


27 


Boarding-School Days. 

bered with a qualm how, as a matter of course, they 
had always nicknamed the professors. They cer- 
tainly never meant any real disrespect by it, but 
somehow it seemed quite a different affair when it 
came to herself. 

“ But it ’s most peculiar that they don’t mind my 
presence one bit,” she thought perplexedly. ” Per- 
haps they don’t feel that school has really begun 
yet. I ’ll see how they behave to-morrow.” 

There were several tables spread in the dining- 
room, which was a decidedly handsome apartment. 
Mrs. Conway was waiting, standing at the head of 
one of the larger tables. The girls were assigned 
places just as they came to-night, so Winifred 
found herself still with her first acquaintances. 

The tables were prettily set and well served. 
Everything was abundant, perfectly cooked, and 
well seasoned. There were about twenty-five pres- 
ent, in all, about half of these being plainly new 
pupils. Winifred, in the intervals of the courses, 
watched them all interestedly, while she talked. 
Judith Champney sat opposite her. 

” What a very plain face,” she thought. ” But 
I fancy she has brains.” 

Judith was more than plain. She was unequivo- 
cally homely. Her forehead was very prominent, 
her face very thin, her skin very freckled, and her 
drab-brown hair very straight. It was the kind of 


28 


A Nest of Girls. 


dry, light hair that divides and goes in strings, and 
was worn smoothly back from the high forehead in 
the most unbecoming way possible. Her mouth 
had no curves. It simply opened and shut in a 
line. Yet, for some reason, it was not the pathetic 
kind of homeliness that makes one ache for the pos- 
sessor. Judith had the air of being plain and philo- 
sophically accepting the fact and wanting nobody’s 
sympathy. Her face, too, Winifred decided was 
interesting in its own way. There was a quickness 
in every glance of her very light eyes, a shrewd cock 
of her head as she listened, a sharp, one-sided smile 
that generally accompanied her own trenchant 
speeches, that made her a person not to be ignored. 
As Winifred learned afterwards, not even her friends 
were spared the lash of her sharp tongue, and she 
had a way of impaling her enemies, that made her 
respected as a power, if disliked as a girl. Of 
course she had few friends, yet these few liked her 
thoroughly well, for the honor that never stooped 
to take advantage, even of her enemies, and for the 
really kind heart that would do a favor, unknown 
if possible, for she always ostentatiously refused it 
in words. Virginia said of her that she was the son 
who repented and went. 

As it happened, there was much in Judith’s life 
to pity, for it had been practically loveless. Her 
mother had died when Judith was a baby. Her 


Boarding-School Days. 


29 


father, a professor in the college in the town and an 
absorbed student, to whom his insects were more 
than wife or child, left her mainly to the care of the 
housekeeper, a grim, stern Scotchwoman. Judith 
grew up with absolutely no knowledge of caresses 
or of petting. These she was taught to consider 
babyish and sentimental. She would sometime 
make a staunch, true friend, but the tenderness of 
love would be a sealed volume to her. 

Winifred learned from the conversation that went 
on, that her father was taking his year off, and had 
gone abroad, leaving Judith as a boarding-pupil in 
the school where she had been before a day scholar. 

Virginia, seated beside her, chatted volubly to 
the French teacher in glib and tolerably correct 
French. Virginia evidently did not like to be silent. 
The rest of the girls were rather quiet. Winifred 
while talking to Margaret, went on with her obser- 
vations. 

‘‘ That, without doubt, is one of my confreres,” 
she decided, letting her gaze rest a moment on the 
person who sat next to Judith. 

“ She undoubtedly has mathematics. Does 
teaching mathematics make one look severe, or 
does one take to mathematics, because one is 
severe ? ” she meditated. 

The individual, whom she heard addressed as 
Miss Roberts, wore her hair in the close, smooth 


30 


A Nest of Girls. 


fashion known as water-waves, which was even then 
obsolete. She was small and straight, not really 
thin, but giving the appearance of being so, from 
her very thin face. She was undeniably bright, as 
Winifred immediately saw, and a keen observer. 
She talked well but critically of everything, chal- 
lenging nearly every remark of another speaker, 
evidently as much from habit as from a real desire 
to contradict. 

“ From acquiring a school-teacherish manner, 
good Lord deliver me! " prayed Winifred fervently. 

Now Mrs. Conway has n’t a trace of it. She has 
the air of one used to command, but it is merely the 
society manner of one accustomed to be a power, 
after all. She might be merely a club-president. 
She has n’t a particle of that dictatorial manner 
that Miss Roberts has.” 

After dinner, Mrs. Conway assembled the girls 
in the large study-parlor, for a short talk and gen- 
eral greeting, and then sent them all to their 
rooms, saying that they would not be on duty 
till to-morrow. 

On going up-stairs. Miss Douglas found that Mar- 
garet’s trunk had arrived, and she stopped to offer 
any assistance possible. Margaret sat on the floor 
with an air of comical wistfulness. She looked up 
as Miss Douglas entered. 

” I ’m afraid you ’ll think I ’m a perfect baby. 



MARGARET SAT ON THE FLOOR 


Page JO, 







■*-v . ■'f»|Pl'''r ;■ 





L 






r*^ s' 






j '* „ 


•- 




• # ■'. ■ 






*•■ « %v^' 




f 1 




'V ► 


'< _ 


■•"'►’■rii 


a 






« il 


♦ I 


if- 


u 


.i'* '• 








‘7 ' 


t*' 








mt 






' t 




>. .-.f, 

i\rw.xw/" 


^ # 


-- - ^ 

yi*- 

M .L -'». . 


> 


r < 


• #*'"* 


-■ti 





* ' -w •- 


A-^<i 




^ -4 


«'4 U: 

4 ♦ , 




JP » 




• ^ 


( 



fi'lllsil 

>r?' ^ 

i , » 

■\ 




I 




I • 


“.“1 


Pi 


- ;* 


ti 




T 




n* 

, /-^ r' W ^ 

‘‘ • % * . 




/^« 

- k:.’ * 


^ *■ 

■9-*ij0. 

» * * j L 


- /• 

4 

t 

M 1 

. • • • . 

a • •• 1 _ » .• 






1 


- . f „ y 







tV 


--iir 

MBSWI^i A/^lT! *4 >.*^ • 

a- 




' *r** 


Boarding-School Days. 


31 


Miss Douglas’" she said, solemnly, '‘but it does 
seem to me that I cannot take the things out of my 
trunk. I can’t make up my mind to. You see, 
mamma and I put them there and ’Liza helped, and 
the children stood around and offered suggestions — 
especially Cricket — and they all brought things and 
got in the way and I fell over them and it was only 
this morning, and — oh dear! ” 

" Homesick a little ? It ’s pretty bad, dear, but 
it won’t last.” 

“ No — o. I don’t think I ’m homesick. I never 
was, before. Only there ’s a pretty big hole in my 
stomach, as my little sister. Cricket, says. Don’t 
you know that funny feeling as if your head was 
joined on to your feet, when you are dreading 
something very much ? ” 

Winifred laughed, recognizing a familiar sensation 
of Freshman days. 

“ I certainly do know, although I never called it 
that. No, I don’t believe you are really homesick. 
Jump up and let me help you take the things out. 
Indeed, I know very well the feeling that one can’t 
bear to disturb the things packed at home. I lived 
in my trunk for a whole week when I first went to 
Wellesley, for that very reason, but I do not think it 
helped any. I was only desperately uncomfortable.” 

MargaretMaughed and pulled up a tray. 

“ Yes, it ’s nonsense. Here goes! ” and she set 


A Nest of Girls. 


32 

to work. Winifred liked her more and more. She 
was so straightforward and well-bred. Everything 
about her showed dainty care on somebody’s part. 
She was not at all a chatterbox, but talked simply 
and naturally, or listened with a pretty air of inter- 
est and deference to the speaker. She was perfectly 
self-possessed and not at all shy, but entirely with- 
out self-consciousness. Winifred fancied she be- 
longed to a large family, for she had an air that an 
only child, or one of a very small number, rarely 
possesses. 

Presently a bell rang and Winifred looked at her 
watch. 

“ I suppose that ’s the bell for getting ready for 
bed, as it ’s nine o’clock. You see, I don’t know 
all the hours myself yet.” 

“ Why, are you new, too ? How funny! I did 
not know that.” 

Yes, I ’m very new. I only arrived at four 
o’clock this afternoon. Now, my little neighbor, 
I ’ll say good-night.” 

” You ’ve been so good to me! ” said Margaret 
gratefully. ” This first evening has been very nice, 
instead of lonely. I guess I was a wee bit home- 
sick, when you came in.” 

It was the next morning. Breakfast, prayers, and 
other preliminaries were over, and the clang of the 


Boarding-School Days. 


33 


long Japanese gong, that hung by the desk in the 
large study-parlor, where the whole school assem- 
bled, had called to order. There were over fifty 
day pupils, and the great room was filled. 

“ Where ’s that Miss Douglas ? ” whispered Vir- 
ginia to J udith, as they took their places. ‘ ‘ I meant 
to stop for her and then another new girl wanted 
something and I forgot her.'’ 

Don't know, I 'm sure. I had that underdone- 
looking Miss Dransfield in tow," answered Judith. 
" She ought to look out for herself and follow the 
others. I do wonder where Emmie is ! " 

" Probably she came early this morning and went 
straight to the class-room," returned Virginia. 

Hush! here comes Mrs. Conway." 

It was Miss Roberts's duty to call the room to 
order, and when they were in their places, Mrs. 
Conway entered, the girls rising and standing till 
she had passed up the aisle and had taken her place 
in the large chair on the platform. 

After the roll-call and the entering of new names, 
came the classifying and arranging. By eleven 
o'clock, things were sufficiently advanced to begin 
to send classes to the respective class-rooms, where 
the different instructors would assign work for the 
next day. The real tug of war came later with the 
making out of the program and the fitting the vari- 
ous classes together. 

3 


34 


A Nest of Girls. 


The second-year English Literature were duly 
sent to their room, where Miss Douglas, decidedly 
nervous as to the lower strata of her mind, but very 
calm and serene as to her outward appearance, 
awaited them. It was rather a larger class than 
Mrs. Conway cared to have formed, for there were 
fifteen in it, but the graduating class was large this 
year. Seven of the boarding-pupils belonged to it, 
among them Virginia Henderson, Judith Champney, 
and Valentine Clifford. The first three, who were all 
intimate friends, entered together. Virginia, turned 
in her cordial way to where the desk and chair stood 
in the middle of the room, but the words of greeting 
that she had intended to say to Miss Emerson, their 
last year’s teacher in Literature, died on her lips. 
She stopped with her mouth half open. 

‘ ‘ Y OU ! ” she exclaimed. ‘ ‘ Why — I thought — 
Miss Emerson — are you a teacher? ” 

Virginia’s look of horror nearly upset Winifred’s 
gravity, as she suddenly grasped the situation. 

** Yes,” she answered, with a twinkle in her eyes 
that completed Virginia’s mortification, “ did I not 
tell you last night that I was to have the Litera- 
ture ? ” 

The day scholars, in the little confusion of taking 
their seats, had not noticed this scene, and as Mrs. 
Conway came in at that moment to introduce the 
new instructor to them by name, the two others. 


Boarding-School Days. 35 

Valentine and Judith could say nothing — but their 
glances spoke volumes. 

They fell on Virginia, however, when they went 
through the hall back to the study-parlor, after Miss 
Douglas had assigned some paper to be prepared for 
the next day. 

“It ’s all your fault, “ scolded Valentine, her 
sense of the fitness of things much outraged. “ The 
idea of telling us she was a new scholar ! Goodness 
knows what you said to her yesterday, if you were 
in her room for an hour, as you said. She ’ll think 
we ’re lacking in common decency.’’ 

“Yes,’’ added Judith, joining in, “I should think 
you would stand there looking like a whipped dog 
with his tail between his legs! You ought to! ’’ 

“ That ’s right,’’ answered Virginia, meekly for 
once. “ Hit me again. I ’m way down. Don’t 
hesitate to wipe your feet on me, Judith. I hope 
you won’t get another chance. But, oh dear, I 
was thinking that she would fit in with our set so 
nicely, and we could take her up, and now she ’s 
only a teacher, and I miss her already! “ 


CHAPTER III. 


SETTLING DOWN. 

R eturning to her own room after school 
duties were over at one o^clock, Winifred 
heard her name called by Margaret as she passed 
the door. 

« 

“ My new roommate 's come/' the girl said ex- 
citedly. “ Can you spare a moment to come in and 
see her ? She 's just gone to speak to some of the 
girls, but she said she would be right back. Her 
name is Hester Cameron, and she 's lovely! I am 
so relieved ! I almost dreaded seeing her, for fear 
I should n’t like her. Can you come in ? ” 

“ With pleasure,” answered Winifred. “ It seems 
to me that I have heard nothing but ‘Hester Cam- 
eron ’ all the morning. Every girl was asking for 
her, in every direction. I ’m curious to see her, 
myself.” 

Margaret put Miss Douglas in a chair, and estab- 
lished herself on the window-seat. 

” Well, she ’s dear! And she lives in Philadel- 
phia, too, and knows my aunt there. Is n’t that 
fine ?” 

” Very. How did school go ? ” 

36 


37 


Boarding-School Days. 

** Of course we did n’t do much, but I will be 
with the girls I met last night, principally, I think. 
Miss Henderson and those you know. Oh, here is 
Miss Cameron ! That is my roommate. Miss 
Douglas. And this is Miss Douglas, who was so 
kind to me last night when I came.” 

Winifred put out her hand to the new-comer. 

I am glad to see you, for I have been hearing 
of you on all sides, this morning,” she said. 

How nice of you to tell me so,” said Hester 
Cameron, returning Winifred’s clasp cordially. ” I 
am so delighted to see everybody again. And my 
roommate has been telling me enthusiastically all 
about you, ever since I arrived, an hour ago. You 
take Miss Emerson’s place, don’t you ? ” 

There was so much fun in her dark-blue eyes, 
that Winifred laughed outright. 

” I can’t keep it. Miss Douglas. It ’s too rich. 
The girls have been telling me the joke, but they 
said they ’d slaughter me if I told. I said I would, 
though, on my first opportunity, and you don’t look 
as if you ’d mind. Do you know that they took 
you for a new pupil, and are now gnashing their 
teeth and tearing their hair for fear of what you ’ll 
think of them ? ” 

” Like George Washington, Miss Cameron, I can- 
not equivocate,” answered Winifred, with dancing 
eyes. ‘ ‘ I did not suspect the true state of the case 


38 


A Nest of Girls. 


till this morning; but I can’t find any fault, for con- 
sidering me as a new girl, they were delightful.” 

” It ’s just like Virginia to jump at conclusions 
so, but she ’s always nice to new girls — more than 
the rest of us are,” confessed Hester honestly. 
” And, anyway, you don’t look — oh, I beg your 
pardon ! ” 

Winifred was so fascinated by Hester’s face, voice 
and manner that she almost forgot to answer her. 
She did not wonder at the constant mention of her 
name and the enthusiasm of her schoolmates about 
her. She was tall and as straight as a dart, with a 
fine carriage of the head, although Winifred had 
already noticed that that was a characteristic of the 
girls of St. Ursula’s. Her cloth costume of dark 
green with a band of fur around the skirt and at 
neck and wrists was in the perfection of good taste. 
Her manner was frank and cordial, with a dash of 
the Southern in it. Her face, by no means beautiful, 
but full of charm, was of the type that some one 
has called ” the black-haired blonde,” that is, her 
skin was of the fairest, with a color that was pink 
and never red ; her eyes were like deep purple vio- 
lets; the outline of her face was that attractive 
one that we call Anglo-Saxon ; but her hair was 
lustrous black. Her firm, white chin had a deep 
cleft in it, and her hair grew distractingly on her 
forehead. 


39 


Boarding-School Days. 

Since you have seen Virginia, I dare say you 
have seen the others of our set ? ” Hester was say- 
ing, when Winifred paid attention again. 

‘‘ I presume so, but which girls belong to your 
set ? ” 

Virginia, of course, and Judith and Valentine 
and Lorraine Dudley ” 

“ That *s a new name to me, but I know the 
others.” 

She won’t be back till Friday. Oh, Lorraine 
is the most adorable little creature! She ’s my 
special delight. The girls call her my baby. Then 
there ’s Katharine Henry — she ’s a day scholar — 
and Eleanor Scott, who is with us a good deal, 
though she is n’t really in our set. We ’re rather a 
hodge-podge, for there ’s a little of everything 
among us. But we have fine times and we ’re ‘ not 
velly good and we ’re not velly bad, but we ’re just 
comfor’ble little girls.’ ” 

“I’m sure of that,” answered Winifred heartily. 
She had almost fallen in love with this bright- 
mannered young person already. 

” Really these children are not so bad,” she said 
to herself, as she went on to her room. ” Not a 
bit worse than Freshmen, anyway. I do believe I 
shall get on with them, unless I forget that I must 
set an example all the time. I wonder how it seems 
to set an awful example. 


40 


A Nest of Girls. 


Under Mrs. Conway’s efficient generalship, St. 
Ursula settled down to work with marvellously 
little waste of time. In a few days, everything was 
running smoothly, and all the classes were at work. 
No one could live with Mrs. Conway a week and 
not realize that she was an unusual woman. Her 
commanding personality made even schoolgirl criti- 
cism pass her by. Many of the girls feared her, all 
stood in wholesome awe of her, and some loved her 
with all the pathetic strength of girlish passion. It 
would have been a bold person who would deliber- 
ately have faced her scorn. Her words, when she 
had to reprove, were always few, and never angry. 
She was unwaveringly just, but always considerate. 
She was unbendingly firm when she had once taken 
a position, but very deliberate in making up her 
mind on a question. Tact, judgment, decision, 
and an overwhelmingly strong sense of humor, com- 
bined to make her an ideal head over the impression- 
able young minds under her charge. There was a 
fund of tenderness, too, down deep in her nature, 
to which those girls who had been in sore trouble 
could testify, with full hearts. 

As days went by, Winifred found herself growing 
more and more interested in her work and in the 
girls. For no particular reason, she continued to 
see most of those whom chance had thrown her with 
at first, the “job-lot” as Virginia styled them. 


Boarding-School Days. 41 

They all roomed near her and were often in and out 
at odd minutes. 

Lorraine Dudley had been very late in returning, 
for she did not come in for nearly two weeks. The 
girls met her with open arms when she arrived, for 
Winifred had soon found out that Lorraine was 
very popular. There were some girls who did not 
like Hester, but Lorraine was the school pet. 

She was far and away the beauty of the school. 
Very tiny she was, and though she was as old as 
the others she looked about fifteen. Her hair was 
just too dark for golden, but had the richest of 
bronze lights. Her great limpid brown eyes had an 
appealing expression in them that made one imme- 
diately long to do something for her. They often 
had a pathetic look — but it was a look only, for 
Lorraine had no pathos in her composition. One 
of the natures to be petted and loved and shielded, 
every one protected her, waited on her, and expected 
nothing of her in return. The very teachers found 
themselves indulgently making excuses for her when 
she came to the class, only quarter prepared, as she 
usually did. They asked her the easiest questions 
and almost suggested the answers ; when those 
brown eyes, so expectantly lifted, were raised to 
one's face, one would have felt like a brute to do 
less. For Lorraine was not clever; indeed, it must 
be confessed that Lorraine was wofully dull, when 


42 


A Nest of Girls. 


anything to be learned from a book was in question. 
Explanations rolled off her mind like water off a 
duck’s back. She calmly called herself a special 
student, for all thoughts of her graduating had 
been given up long ago. Her French accent was 
perfect, and her grammar the despair of her in- 
structor. She smiled on everybody and everybody 
smiled on her. In her disposition she was wholly 
made up of gentleness, sweetness, and clinging love. 
She must be loved. She was quite capable of dying 
if she was in a cold or hard atmosphere and could 
not get out. There was not a trace of envy or 
jealousy in her nature, only somebody must love 
her. 

Her mother was a widow, a hypochondriacal in- 
valid, and rich. Lorraine had always come and 
gone at her own sweet will, She was generous, for 
it hurt her to see any one deprived of anything, and 
generosity never meant self-sacrifice to her. Every 
one adored her, but it was to Hester that she clung 
especially, and Hester’s devotion to her was beauti- 
ful. She was bound up in the dainty, girlish crea- 
ture. She helped her all she possibly could in her 
lessons, and explained everything with elaborate 
care; Lorraine listened so interestedly, and said, 
“ Oh, I see!” so convincedly, that Hester never 
realized that the other knew no more about the sub- 
ject when she finished than when she began. Hester 


Boarding-School Days. 


43 


watched over her, was blind to her faults, excused 
her failings, and comforted her in trouble. Lorraine 
leaned on her friend as on a rock, and brought her 
all her small crumpled rose-leaves, to have them 
smoothed out. Hester would talk to her of thoughts 
and aspirations of which Lorraine had no more con- 
ception than a humming-bird, and the latter listened 
intently, with her sweet air of earnest interest and 
sympathy, while all the time she was probably plan- 
ning her winter wardrobe, for Lorraine, like all such 
natures, was passionately fond of dress. Her taste 
was faultless; she knew exactly what was appropri- 
ate to her seventeen years, and she never went be- 
yond it, while she had every beautiful thing that a 
girl could possibly wear. 

In two or three weeks’ time, all the girls had 
found their social, as well as their intellectual level, 
and settled down into groups and cliques as school- 
girls will. Margaret Ward was speedily caught up 
into Hester’s set with Harvey Sherwood, who was 
Virginia’s roommate. Harvey was a pretty, grace- 
ful, dreamy girl from the far South. She lived 
largely in a shadow world of her own, her gray eyes 
looking out absently, on the practical life about her. 
She found the busy. Northern ways of thought and 
action decidedly irksome and was desperately home- 
sick at times. 

Romelia Dransfield was rather a thorn in the flesh 


44 


A Nest of Girls. 


to this set, for she was bent upon being intimate 
with them, and none of them could bear her. Hes- 
ter’s set was known as the “ Merry Chanters ” from 
their favorite Mr. Stockton, whom Hester knew 
well, for it happened that nearly every one of them 
sang and sang well. Now Romelia thought she had 
a voice also; besides this, the “ Merry Chanters” 
led the school in almost everything, and their notice 
was honor indeed. 

One Saturday morning the girls of this particular 
set were clustered in the bay-window of their corri- 
dor, which was on the third story. It was a favorite 
lounging-place, and was tacitly given up to them. 
It was not conspicuous from the street, for there 
were sash curtains, and the sweeping elm branches 
further sheltered them. 

Presently Romelia came up-stairs from her room, 
which was on the corridor below. 

” Oh, there you are, Virgie,” she began, as soon 
as she saw the group. ” I ’ve been looking for you. 
Can you tell me when Signor Paulini is to begin his 
Italian lessons ? ” 

Virginia stared deafly out of the window. Ro- 
melia drew nearer with her usual slow step. It was 
the somewhat lagging step of ill-health, — for Romelia 
was not a strong girl, — and it had not a particle of 
the languid grace of Maud’s equal slowness, which 
was a part of her temperament. 


45 


Boarding-School Days. 

Did n’t you hear me, Virgie ? I want to know 
about the Italian lessons,” and Romelia laid a re- 
buking hand on Virginia’s arm. The latter turned 
with a jerk, disengaging her arm. 

Excuse me, but it did n’t occur to me that you 
were speaking to me.” 

” Why, I said Virgie, did n’t I, girls ? ” 

” Yes, that ’s what I thought you said, and that 
is n’t my name,” answered Virginia carelessly. 

“ Oh, dear!” cried Romelia, with her affected 
little laugh, ” you are always so cold! Pet names 
seem so much more friendly.” 

” Perhaps they do,” returned Virginia stonily, 
” but all the same, all my acquaintances call me 
Virginia.” 

” People are so different,” said the unsnubbable 
Romelia cheerfully. ” Now at home they always 
call me Romie, and I love it. I wish you girls 
would call me Romie.” 

“Romie!” exploded Judith. The word was 
almost a snort. ” The more I see of you. Miss 
Dransfield, the more I wonder you did n’t go to 
school in Hartford.” 

“ In Hartford ? ” questioned Romelia, delighted 
to be talked to ; ” what school ? Why ? ” 

“ The School for the Feeble-Minded. For obvi- 
ous reasons.” 

“ Judith! ” cried Hester sharply, as a dull, angry 


46 


A Nest of Girls. 


flush crept up under Romelia’s thick, white skin. 
Her smile, however, remained unchanged. 

Perhaps I thought I was not far wrong in com- 
ing here,” she answered evenly. ” There 's Maud 
Perry. Dear thing! she asked me to sit with her 
this morning. Good-bye, girls. Wait, Maud!” 

There was a silence till she had gone down-stairs. 

” Little cat!” cried Judith, savagely. ‘‘That 
girl gives me the jim-jams.” 

‘‘ She ’ll scratch, if she ’s put to it,” observed 
Virginia, ‘‘ but she makes me think more of a snake. 
Is n’t it funny that she ’s possessed with the idea of 
being intimate with us, with her ‘Virgies! ’ Good- 
ness! ” Virginia fanned herself in indignation too 
great for further words. 

‘‘If she calls me Judy, she ’ll get a punch,” said 
Judith, flourishing her Livy. 

‘‘ That idiotic girl! ” went on Virginia, scornfully. 
‘‘ Do you know she asked me the other day about 
midnight-feasts ? She said that she supposed we 
would be getting up one before long, and won- 
dered if Mrs. Conway would expel the girls if they 
were found out.” 

‘‘ I hope you told her that we got into our teens 
some years ago,” said Hester disdainfully. 

‘‘ Well, I intimated that. I said that we were 
really too busy to plan one now, but she would un- 
doubtedly find Natalie Evans delighted to join 


47 


Boarding-School Days. 

her.” Natalie was eleven and the youngest girl in 
school. “ I told her that there would be expulsion 
and possibly decapitation if such a plan was detected. 
She said ‘ Dear Virgie ! you are always so merry ! ’ ” 

The girls shouted at Virginia’s perfect mimicry of 
Romelia’s tone. 

” She has it on the brain,” put in Valentine, 
” for she has been at me about it, too. I told her 
that the exquisite bliss of eating jelly out of soap- 
dishes had waned for me some years ago.” 

” Don’t let ’s talk about her any more,” begged 
Hester. ” She ’s ruining our morals, girls, for we 
do gossip about her frightfully. Judith Champney, 
please produce those lists of names we have to look 
up for Literature.” 

Later, when the girls had drifted away to one 
thing and another, Judith detained Virginia a mo- 
ment. The two were the least congenial of the 
whole set, and as a rule saw little of each other 
individually. Each liked the others better, but if 
either wanted to play a joke they were apt to 
combine. 

” I just want to give Romelia Dransfield a little 
of the fun she wants,” began Judith, ” since she ’s 
so wild for a feast. I should think she was about 
ten years old! Do let ’s get her started on one, 
and I ’ll make her think I ’ll join. I can side-track 
it before the time comes, but won’t she have a 


48 


A Nest of Girls. 


lovely time planning it ! She *s dying for the ex- 
citement, and it will give her a good lesson, for 
the girls will guy her so about it.’' 

Virginia jumped at the suggestion. 

“ Good ! Only — ’’ hesitating — “ she ’ll get so in- 
timate with me on the strength of it, that she ’ll 
‘ Virgie ’ me into galloping consumption.” 

“ She undoubtedly will, but stand it for the sake 
of the cause. I ’ll take the brunt of it all, and you 
can hang back and dissuade us. She ’s really as 
afraid as death of me, even if she does scratch back. 
At the last moment you can have conscientious 
scruples about joining in, but you can say that 
you ’ll not betray it.” 

” Impress upon her not to let a hint come to 
Hester. The fat would be in the fire then. Hester 
would n’t let us do it.” 

” We *re not going to do anything. I shall make 
Aer do it,” returned Judith. ” We can’t help it if 
that great big goose will do silly things.” 

” Will you suggest what girls are to be asked ? ” 

” I ’ll tell her she must n’t have but three or four 
in it and to keep it very select. She ’ll like that 
idea. There ’s that gawky Lodema Gathright. 
She ’d be delighted to be in it.” 

” Yes — unless it ’s rather mean to get a girl like 
that in it, in order to play a joke on Romelia.” 

“ No, it is n’t mean,” said Judith promptly. 


Boarding-School Days. 49 

“ One must take the bitter with the sweet in board- 
ing-school. Besides, we won’t let this precious feast 
come off, you know. We ’re just Good Samaritans, 
giving Romelia a little excitement. And as for 
Lodema, it will be the greatest dissipation of her 
life. Oh, why could n’t Romelia have taken her 
up, and been satisfied ? ” 

Lodema Gathright was a tall, countrified-looking 
girl, good-natured, not very sensitive, yet dimly con- 
scious that she lacked everything in manner and 
bearing that the others had. Hers was an ordinary 
intellect, yet she was by no means stupid. Her 
father was a rich country merchant, who wanted 
every advantage for his daughter, and had had her 
well educated. He had placed her in St. Ursula’s 
for the year, to give her what he called a “ final 
polish.” There was very little active rudeness in 
St. Ursula’s — the girls all insisting that what they 
said to Romelia did n’t count — but Lodema simply 
went on her way without much notice from any one. 
Mrs. Conway had scant mercy on active unkindness, 
and as most of the girls were well-bred, there was 
little of it ; passive rudeness, however, always exists 
in the form of mere indifference, which requires 
much experience of the world and social knowledge 
to overcome. There were few who noticed or 
thought of the unattractive girl, after the first few 

days when there was constant thoughtfulness for 
4 


50 


A Nest of Girls. 


newcomers. Later, old friends got together, con- 
genial girls drifted into companionship, and the 
small residue hung about lonely like a fringe, not 
caring for each other, and not caught up into older 
sets. Some of these last, like Romelia, made des- 
perate efforts to force their way into intimacy with 
different circles; others, like Lodema, not knowing 
how to make the smallest advances towards good- 
fellowship, found themselves solitary in a corner. 

After much laughing and considering, the girls 
finally made up a list with which they thought they 
could tempt Romelia. 


CHAPTER IV. 


ROMEO a’ S FEAST. 

R om ELIA was in the seventh heaven of bliss 
that night when Judith Champney actually 
allowed her to get into conversation with her ami- 
ably. It was Saturday night, when the girls went 
up-stairs at eight o’clock. 

It began by Judith positively smiling on Romelia. 
The smile had a sting in one corner of her wide- 
mouth, but Romelia did not see that. She was 
so enchanted by the smile that she stopped and 
offered a remark that was answered with marked 
politeness. In a few minutes Judith had the fly in 
her toils. 

A midnight feast ! how dear ! how sweet ! Oh, 
what if they should be caught ! How exciting! How 
could they get things to eat ? She ’d buy olives. 
She supposed they ought to have limes. Boarding- 
school girls always did, only she did n’t like them. 
She ’d tried hard, too, ever since she had read 
about Amy March in Little WomeUy when she was 
expelled or something for eating pickled limes. 
Could they have lemonade ? They ’d have to drink 
it out of their toothbrush glasses. Such fun ! What 
51 


52 


A Nest of Girls. 


else could they have ? Could they bribe the cook ? 
Oh, she was so excited ! 

Judith was rather overwhelmed by the enthusiasm 
she had brought on her head, as Romelia poured out 
question after question, in her odd, excited drawl. 
She had a curious voice. It was always as slow as 
her movements were, yet there was a constant inflec- 
tion up and down. 

“ But we must n’t be selfish with our good times, 
dear,” she said suddenly. “You will have all 
your set in, wont you ? ” 

“ Horrors! no,” exploded Judith, then checked 
herself. “ It would n’t be best, you see,” she ex- 
plained. “ Some of them would disapprove. If 
ever you want to get up another, you can. I can’t 
do much about this, because, you see, the girls don’t 
like me,” she finished, with charming candor. 

But they would, dear, if only you would n’t be 
quite so sharp,” said Romelia, with utter unexpect- 
edness. “You say nasty things and they won’t 
stand it. They don’t understand you as I do. Of 
course, I know you never mean to be disagreeable.” 

Judith leaned up against the wall, in a state of 
utter collapse. 

“ Perhaps I can bring about a better state of feel- 
ing,” added Romelia sweetly. “ I ’d love to use 
my influence for you, dear. I will say a good word 
for you wherever I can, you may be sure,” 


Boarding-School Days. 


53 


Judith glared up at her in speechless wrath. For 
once her antagonist had left her without a word to 
say for the moment. Romelia looked down, calmly 
patronizing. It was impossible to tell whether she 
had made her little speech from pure conceit or with 
due aim. 

Judith recovered herself in a moment. 

Pray don’t trouble yourself, or the case would 
be absolutely hopeless,” she said, as suavely as Ro- 
melia, her face as impassive as it always was. 

“ But would n’t some of your set join ? ” went on 
Romelia, grounding arms for the present. “ I 
think that some of the ‘ Merry Chanters ’ would^^ 
enjoy it as much as you would, dear.” 

Judith ground her teeth at the “ dear,” but 
smiled a smile in the far corner of her mouth that 
Romelia could not see. 

” Yes, I dare say they would enjoy it just as 
much as I would, exactly. But don’t let any of 
them know of it. Hester would sit on it and so 
would Val Clifford — Valentine, I mean.” 

“Dear Val! she is always so conscientious!” 
And Judith squirmed. “ But could n’t we ask 
Margaret ? She likes fun so much.” Romelia did 
long to have more of the “ Merry Chanters ” join in. 

“ By no means,” said Judith promptly. “ Pos- 
sibly Virginia, but none of the others. It might 
leak out with so many.” 


54 


A Nest of Girls. 


“Oh, fie!“ exclaimed Romelia, trying to be 
playful. Judith reflected that she had never known 
anyone outside of a book, say, “ Oh, fie! “ 

“ That 's a pretty suggestion !“ Romelia went 
on, finishing her “ Oh, fie! beginning. “ Hester 
Cameron would like to hear that you think she ’d 
tell tales ! 

I scarcely see how she could hear it, if the peo- 
ple I talk to tell the truth,” Judith returned so em- 
phatically that Romelia jumped. 

“ Oh, yes! Of course! Certainly! how you 
startle one ! But about Virginia. She nearly took 
my head off the other night for barely suggesting 
the possibility of a feast.” 

“ Oh, well, you might coax her. You are so won- 
derfully persuasive, you know. I am sure she 
could n’t withstand your eloquence.” 

“Oh, Judith! how sweet of you! They always 
say of me at home, do you know, the very same 
thing! ‘ Oh, let Romie manage,’ they say, ‘ for she 
has such coaxing ways.’ But I always thought it 
was just their partiality, you know. What ’s the 
matter ? Do you feel ill ? ” for Judith suddenly 
groaned dreadfully and fanned herself with the 
window-shade. 

“I’m better now, thanks. Yes, I felt a little 
upset for a moment. There comes Virginia. Try 
your coaxing ways now.” 


55 


Boarding-School Days. 

Virginia, in her red wrapper, came sailing down 
the hall, with her bath-towels and sponges in her 
arms. Seeing Judith and Romelia together she 
sniffed fun from afar, and bore down upon them 
with an absent-minded expression, and stopped 
with an air of surprise as she drew nearer. 
Romelia hailed her rapturously and propounded 
the scheme. 

Oh, Judith! do you think you ought ?” Virginia 
asked when Romelia paused, with so virtuous an 
expression that Judith patted her on the back on 
the off side, in great delight. 

Romelia eagerly urged the plan. Boarding-school 
girls always had feasts. She 'd always been wild to 
come to boarding-school to have a feast. It was so 
romantic. Of course, she supposed there was great 
risk in it — Judith and Virginia exchanged glances — 
but fun was always risky. So exciting to get up in 
the middle of the night and run into the others* 
rooms. 

“ Be sure to put on your bed-room slippers,” said 
Virginia, and then she and Judith fairly doubled up 
with laughter over some hidden joke. 

“ And can’t we have it very soon ? *’ begged Ro- 
melia. “ I am so excitable. I never can wait for 
anything. That ’s what they always say at home. 
‘ Romie is so excitable.’ ” 

“ I do wonder how they ever spared you,” began 


56 


A Nest of Girls. 


Judith, but Virginia, seeing battle in her eye, 
interposed. 

“ Hush! don’t talk so loud. How are you going 
to get any grub, Romelia ? ” 

Would n’t the day-scholars bring us some 
things ?” suggested Romelia eagerly. “ I ’ll ask 
Henrietta Davis. I know she will.” 

” No, you sha’n’t,” flung out Judith. “ The 
day-scholars sha’n’t be mixed up in it. We ’ll man- 
age by ourselves.” 

” Dear me! ” pouted Romelia, ” how fussy you 
are ! don’t drop a hint here ! don’t give a hint there ! 
I should think that you wanted to keep it all to 
ourselves, you and I! ” 

” Heaven forbid! ” exclaimed Judith, involunta- 
rily, ” I mean, — well, don’t let ’s bring in the day- 
scholars It does n’t seem honest. You can get 
things some way, for you are such a good planner.” 

” Oh, do you think so? ” cried Romelia, beaming. 
” That ’s what they say ” 

‘‘ Whatever you do,” cut in Judith, ” keep it 
small and keep my name out of it, or it would 
slump. I ’ve no influence, you know.” 

” Dear Judith! But you will try to be more — ” 
but Judith fled, leaving Virginia staring. 

Leaven of this sort works very quickly in school, 
and by Monday night any experienced eye would 
have seen there was something up. Heads together 


57 


Boarding-School Days. 

in corners, significant glances, be they ever so slight, 
whispers on the stairs, all tell their tale so that he 
who runs may read. Judith, noting it, felt a trifle 
uneasy, but she would not acknowledge it. She 
would let Romelia go on a little longer, then stop 
her. But Monday was a busy day and Judith had 
little time to think about anything but her work. 
It was not until after study-hour on Monday 
night that Romelia found a chance to get hold 
of Judith. 

“ It *s going on beautifully,” Romelia whispered, 
exultantly. ” All the girls are delighted. Oh, it’s 
so exciting! ” 

” All the girls ? Why, whom have you asked ? ” 
questioned Judith suspiciously. ” I told you not 
to have more than three or four.” 

” Well, there are only a few,” answered Romelia, 
quickly, for her. ” Principally new ones.” 

” But who ? ” persisted Judith. 

” Oh, the ones you mentioned and one or two 
others,” answered Romelia vaguely. ” Do you 
know, Virginia would n’t come in. I never thought 
she ’d be so squeamish. I thought she ’d be in for 
a good time.” 

” H’m,” sniffed Judith, with her crooked smile, 
reflecting that Romelia’s idea of a good time and 
Virginia’s probably differed. 

” Well, I have been thinking of it myself,” Judith 


58 


A Nest of Girls. 


began, “ and I don’t know but Virginia ’s right. 
Perhaps we had better give it up.” 

“ Why, the very idea! ” cried Romelia, staring. 
“ I would n’t give it up for anything! Every- 
thing ’s arranged, the room and all.” 

“ You certainly have n’t wasted time,” Judith 
said, in genuine surprise. She had n’t given Ro- 
melia credit for any such executive ability. 

“ No,” said Romelia, complacently, “ they always 
say at home ” 

“ What room is it to be in ? ” asked Judith curi- 
ously. She had told Romelia that of course it must 
be in the room of the person who got it up. 

“ In Lodema Gathright’s room,” admitted Ro- 
melia, rather unwillingly. 

” In the name of all that ’s mean! You don’t 
mean to have it there I ” cried Judith contemptu- 
ously. ” Why not in your room as was first sug- 
gested ? You are getting it up, and it ’s more 
central, too.” 

” Oh — why — Lodema seemed perfectly willing, 
and it ’s the corner room and — and ” 

” At any rate, you did n’t want it in yours,” 
Judith said, her lip curling. 

” Well, for the matter of that, you proposed it to 
me in the first place,” cried Romelia, with the un- 
expected sharpness she so often showed, ” and 
why not in your room ? ” She was so extremely 


Boarding-School Days. 59 

gullible so much of the time that it threw one off 
guard. 

“ You asked me that the other night, and I told 
you I would n’t have it on any consideration. I ’d 
be shot first.” 

“ And you ’d like to have it in my room, so if 
we’re caught you can sneak out some way,” ex- 
claimed Romelia rashly. 

Judith gave her a long, annihilating glance, her 
wide mouth curving itself in such unspeakable scorn, 
that Romelia felt a most unpleasant sensation. 

“ You ’ve rather put your foot in it,” Judith said, 
very quietly, after a moment. “You can count me 
out now. After that, you scarcely need me.” 

“ You hateful thing! ” cried Romelia childishly, 
her pale face growing paler with rage. “ Now, I 
suppose you ’ll go and tell and spoil everything. 
Just like you ! ” 

“ ‘ Know thyself,’ but don’t judge others by the 
knowledge,” Judith returned, with her mocking, 
one-sided smile, as she walked away. 

Inwardly, however, she was in a ferment of fury, 
not less with herself than with Romelia. 

“ Nasty little viper! That comes of meddling 
with pitch. She can go now and have her ridicu- 
lous little feast, if she wants to. She ’d have had 
one sooner or later without my suggesting it. I 
devoutly wish Mrs. Conway would find it out and 


6o 


A Nest of Girls. 


show her how ridiculous it is. Serves me right for 
trying to gull her. A fine handle she ’ll have against 
me now! ” 

“ Judith Champney! what is the matter with 
you ? ” It was Hester, who was coming out of her 
room. Judith was walking along the corridor, with 
the five fingers of each hand extended as if they 
were sticky. 

“ I touched something,” returned Judith shortly. 
” Don’t come near me till I ’ve washed my hands.” 

Hester laughed. 

” They look clean enough.” 

Judith’s hands were her sole beauty. Small, 
well-shaped, and white, they were always beautifully 
kept, and as Judith frankly avowed, they were her 
especial pride. 

” What ’s up, Judith ?” persisted Hester. ” I 
know something is. The air is full of it to-day.” 

” If there ’s anything up, probably it will soon 
come down,” answered Judith shortly. ” Let 
me go, Hester. Don’t touch me, I tell you. I ’m 
a gibbering idiot, and I Ve cut my own ac- 
quaintance ” ; and Judith slipped through Hes- 
ter’s detaining hand and locked her door in her 
face. 

Hester went back into her own room, much 
puzzled. 

” I wish I knew what is up,” she said to Mar- 



JUDITH CHAMPNEY ! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU ? ” Page 6o. 


'Jk * i»(* 












Boarding-School Days. 6i 

garet, as she began to undress. Judith looked so 
queer. 

Margaret laughed. 

I should think she would look queer and feel 
queer, too, if what Romelia told me this afternoon 
it true.’* 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

Romelia got hold of me just before dinner, and 
after beating about the bush for some time — you 
know her way — she finally said that she and Judith 
— now don’t laugh — were getting up a midnight 
feast and she wanted me to join in and ” 

“ She and Judith ? ” cried Hester, staring in blank 
amazement for a moment, then going off in a fit of 
laughter. “ Of all absurd combinations! ” 

“ I know it. She certainly said Judith, though. 
She charged me over and over not to tell you, but 
I only told her I would use my own discretion about 
that. Then she begged me not to let Judith know 
she had mentioned it to me, as Judith particularly 
wanted her share in it kept quiet. She said ever so 
many of the girls were in, principally new ones, 
though, and that Judith is so stuck on herself that 
it made her mad because some of the old girls would 
n’t join in and so she has insisted that her name 
should n’t appear ” 

“ I hope that all this is clear to you,” gurgled 
Hester, between her fits of laughter, ‘‘ but it looks 


62 


A Nest of Girls. 


about as luminous as a mud-puddle to me. Romelia 
and Judith! If it were Virginia now! 

“ That 's another funny thing. Romelia said 
that Virginia knew of it but did n't approve, al- 
though she had promised not to tell." 

" How perfectly ridiculous! There *s nothing 
moral involved in a feast. It 's a matter of taste, 
and I must confess I never thought it would be 
Judith’s. When is this precious feast to come 
off ?’’ 

" In a night or two, I think. Romelia did n’t 
say positively.’’ 

" Of course, Judith is up to some fun in the mat- 
ter, rather different from what Romelia thinks,’’ 
mused Hester. " Still, that ’s more like Virginia. 
Why did n’t Romelia want me to know ? ’’ 

Margaret laughed again. 

" Prepare to be crushed, my dear. You think 
yourself so superior to everybody in school, and 
you think all fun is frivolous, and it would be just 
like you to get yourself into Mrs. Conway’s good 
graces by going to her and announcing the approach- 
ing festival.’’ 

Hester’s face at this summary of her qualities was 
so blank that Margaret shouted with laughter. 

“ Did Romelia actually say that ? ’’ 

" Yes, and some more. Want to hear it ? ’’ 

Did I ever rashly want the power to see myself 


Boarding-School Days. 63 

as others see me ? If I did I ’ll take it all back. 
I ’d get so humble, you could n’t live with me.” 

I laughed till I almost cried when Romelia said 
that in her soft little way,” Margaret went on, sit- 
ting down on the floor to unlace her shoes. ” Please 
let me tell you the rest. It ’s so awfully funny.” 

” Go on, then, and make a Uriah Keep of me.” 

” She said she had rather liked you at first, and had 

hoped to get some influence over you for good ” 

Margaret, you are making that up! ” 

” On my honor, I ’m not. Well, she wanted to 
influence you for good, but she soon saw that your 
unfortunate conceit — stop laughing and listen to this 
instructive tale — would render it impossible for any 
one to influence you unless they were willing to 
flatter you to any extent, and she was so honest, she 
never could flatter. She had often been sorry, but 
she could n’t, and they always said at home that 
Romie was so plain-spoken. But she did feel that 
she was getting some hold over Judith, for she had 
promised her that she would try to be less sarcastic 
and was so thankful that she, Romelia, had spoken 
to her, for one gets into those habits without know- 
ing it and she often felt that she had needed gentler 
influences than she had ever had.” 

Margaret poured all this out in a breath and then 
rolled over on the floor, weak with laughing. 

” You have to divide some persons’ assertions by 


64 


A Nest of Girls. 


two,” Hester managed to say presently, when she 
got her breath, “ but you must divide Romelia’s by 
twenty-two. What earthly foundation could she 
have for all this rigmarole ? ” 

“ Don’t ask me to be responsible for the vagaries 
of Romelia’s very curious mind. Well, Uriah, 
had n’t I better join this festival ? What should 
we do without Romie ? ” 

“For those that like that sort of thing, it ’s just 
the sort of thing they like. There ’s the bell. 
Please turn out the light. I ’m too weak, and it ’s 
all your fault.” 

Hester fenced with Judith on the subject the next 
day, but with no success. Nothing could be blanker 
or more innocent than Judith’s inexpressive counte- 
nance when she chose. Therefore, Hester, thinking 
it was some piece of fun that the other was a little 
ashamed of, said no more. The strongest bond 
between the “ Merry Chanters ” was, perhaps, their 
real consideration and courtesy towards each other 
underneath all their banter. They never touched a 
tender spot. 

Meanwhile, Romelia, not unnaturally judging 
others by the only code she was familiar with, had 
immediately concluded that Judith would report the 
matter to Mrs. Conway and so stop it. It was an 
affair of such importance to her that she could not 
realize any one’s losing such an opportunity to curry 


65 


Boarding-School Days. 

favor. Therefore she hurried matters, and arranged 
her feast for the next night. She was really a clever 
manager, for she had contrived to include about 
fifteen girls, making each think that there would be 
but three or four others. She found, too, many a 
chance to get in a fling at Judith, which, to be sure, 
that young woman’s unsparing snubbing of her 
somewhat warranted. The others of the “ Merry 
Chanters ” were too popular in school for her to 
venture much with their names. It is not to be 
supposed that Romelia deliberately planned all her 
quiet little malicious speeches; they were simply 
the outcome of her characteristics. Her excessive 
vanity, her craving for popularity, her instinctive 
posing, and the mental obliquity by which two and 
two made twenty-two in her calculations, as Hester 
had said, all made her capable of the speeches she 
gave vent to. Her family were people of wealth, in 
a city in Western New York, but she, having been a 
delicate girl, had mingled very little with other girls, 
and had been sent away to school for this very 
reason. She had stuffed her mind with trash, and 
life was to her a shadowy region of romance and 
sweets. 

It is needless to say that nothing escaped Mrs. 
Conway’s quick eyes. A chance word dropped by 
a servant who had been bribed, a sentence spoken 
by a couple of girls as they entered the dining-room 

5 


66 


A Nest of Girls. 


behind her, a significant glance exchanged now and 
then, and the whole affair was practically in Mrs. 
Conway’s hands. 

She tapped at Miss Douglas’s door the next night 
just after the bell had rung for lights out. She 
often slipped into the rooms of her teachers when 
all was quiet, for a little chat of friendly interest. 
She came now to bring Winifred a ticket for a 
musicale which had been sent her and which she 
could not use. She was always thoughtful in this 
way, and a week rarely passed in which she did not 
remember one of her working force in some kindly 
manner. Incidentally, she had loyal service, but 
no one under her ever felt that this was anything 
but voluntary. Her kindness was too unvarying 
and too considerate. Her teachers knew that they 
were only regarded as her friends and helpers, and 
not as paid dependents. 

As she was leaving the room she turned to say : 

“ There is a feast to go on up here somewhere to- 
night. Did you happen to hear of it ? ” 

“ Here ? To-night ? No, I did not know it. 
Among the girls, you mean ? Miss Hastings and I 
were saying this evening that something seemed to 
be in the wind. Is it something I should have 
known about ? ” added Winifred, rather mortified. 

Oh, no, not especially. I know these things by 
some sixth sense, I often think. It is only a 


Boarding-School Days. 


67 


question of experience, I fancy. I was only going to 
say that if you are wakeful and hear steps, don’t be 
frightened. I will be up here about twelve. You 
must go to bed as usual, but, if you will allow me 
I would like to wait in here a little while perhaps, 
if I happen to be a little early for the ball.” 

Winifred was divided between her desire to laugh 
at the principal’s perfectly matter-of-fact face and 
her interest in the situation. 

” Is n’t there anything I can do ? ” she asked. 
” Won’t you come up here earlier and wait ? ” 

” No, that ’s not necessary, thanks. I fancy I 
know the room, and it is near here. I have no 
special objection to a midnight feast, except that 
the girls take cold. However, they almost never 
have one.” 

Winifred, remembering college days wondered 
sceptically, if Mrs. Conway knew. Later, she was 
quite sure she did. 

Winifred, much interested, concluded not to un- 
dress, but just to put on her dressing-gown and read. 
Her little college clock ticked slowly along and at 
last the big hall clock struck eleven. She rose and 
peeped out into the hall. The gas was burning 
dimly, as usual, and all was quiet. All along the 
corridor the doors stood ajar as was customary. 
She put out her own light and lay down on the bed 
and waited. She had almost dozed into a sound 


68 


A Nest of Girls. 


sleep when some consciousness wakened her. She 
raised a sleepy eyelid and saw a wrapper-clad figure 
stand a moment at her door, then pass on. Now 
wide awake, Winifred listened with much amuse- 
ment to one stealthy tread after another. 

Really, they do it very well,” she thought. ” I 
never would have heard that in the world if I had 
not expected it. I do wonder who is in it.” She 
grew excited, lying there and listening. 

” I wonder if Mrs. Conway will come soon. It 
is n’t twelve yet. I do hope she won’t miss it. 
This is quite burglarish. And what room is it in, 
I wonder ? ” 

Almost directly, Mrs. Conway’s light, free step, 
with no attempt at silence, came swiftly up-stairs. 
She stopped at Winifred’s door a moment. 

” Have you heard anything ? Yes, I thought I 
was not mistaken. The steps went this way ? 
Thank you. I thought so. Now go to bed, my 
dear. Good-night.” 

Mrs. Conway went quickly down the corridor and 
tapped lightly and firmly on a certain door. Nat- 
urally, there was no reply. Romelia had read too 
many stories of boarding-school life to have ne- 
glected the ordinary precautions of stuffing the 
key-hole, locking the door, covering the transom, 
and putting a rug at the lower crack. She was let- 
ter-perfect in all the details. At the first sound of 


Boarding-School Days. 


69 


a step, frank and unmuffled, outside, the soft chat- 
ter and laughter had stopped, and breathless silence 
reigned. Then came the tap. 

“Hist! Quick!” whispered Romelia, in ap- 
proved style, and half a dozen girls squeezed them- 
selves into the closet, others went under each bed 
and Lodema Gathright, the hostess, scrambled into 
her cot, by Romelia’s orders. 

Mrs. Conway waited patiently for all these prepar- 
ations to be made, and then knocked again. 

“ Open the door, Lodema,” she said in her usual 
tones. 

“ Snore a little,” ordered Romelia, from under 
the bed, and frightened Lodema gave a queer, con- 
vulsive snort that was between a choke and a gulp. 

Mrs. Conway checked her own inclination to 
laugh, and called again in exactly the same tone : 

“ Open the door, Lodema.” She had been 
through all this more than once. 

“ You open it,” gasped Lodema, feeling as if she 
were on the verge of execution. “ I can’t stir.” 

Florence Elmer, Lodema’s roommate, in equal 
fright, but more self-control, crawled slowly out of 
her own cot in which she had likewise taken refuge, 
and unlocked the door. 

Mrs. Conway entered in the most matter-of-fact 
way, lighted the gas with a match which she held 
ready in her hand, and glanced around. 


70 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ I suppose you thought it was some girl whom 
you had n’t invited, when you heard me knock,” 
she said in a most casual manner, as if the whole 
situation was the most natural possible. “It ’s 
only I, girls, so you can come out of the closet 
safely. Is there any one under the bed ? That ’s 
always a secure refuge, is n’t it ? ” As she spoke, 
she threw open the closet door and disclosed the 
suffocated girls wedged in there. 

“You must be stifled,” she went on, as the 
sheepish-looking set emerged. “ Oh, you need 
not be frightened. It ’s only I.” But somehow 
this did not seem to be as reassuring as it should 
have been. The others from under the bed crawled 
out meekly. The sight of the dusty heads and 
faces full of mingled consternation and amazement 
was too much for her gravity, however, and she 
laughed unrestrainedly. No one of the girls had 
yet spoken a word. 

“ Are you all warmly dressed ? ” proceeded Mrs. 
Conway in the same every-day fashion. “ Have 
you all your dressing-gowns on ? Have you any 
underclothing on ? Have you on your bed-room 
slippers ? ” Romelia thought the words had a 
familiar sound, but she could n’t place them. 

The practical principal was rapidly making sure 
of one girl after another, and was satisfied with the 
result. 


Boarding-School Days. 71 

** Why, you are very sensible girls. The only 
thing I fear in a midnight feast is that some one 
will have a severe cold from coming through the 
draughty corridors not properly clad. Romelia, 
you are not very strong, I know. Is that wrapper 
warm enough ? ” 

The girls were exchanging wide-eyed glances, but 
nobody had really ventured to speak out loud yet, 
though a few mumbled responses had been given in 
answer to a direct question. 

Now, what have you to eat ?’' went on Mrs. 
Conway cheerfully. “ That 's always an important 
question. Lodema, you seem to be hostess; do 
give me a taste of something.” She critically ex- 
amined the eatables ranged around the wash-stand 
and bureau, for there had not been time to taste a 
mouthful when the interruption had come. ” Well, 
you seem to have gotten along very well with sup- 
plies. Did Bridget give you some of the nice 
pound-cake she made yesterday ? Oh, yes. Here 
it is. That ’s very nice. Olives and pickles, jelly — 
these are nice-looking crackers” nibbling one — 
” yes, a very sensible feast.” 

The girls stood around limply. Mrs. Conway 
coolly tested one thing after another, and finally 
taking an olive in one hand and a cracker in the 
other, she sat down on the bed like any school-girl 
and ate them. 


72 


A Nest of Girls. 


‘‘ Go on, children, for the things look as if you 
had hardly tasted them yet,” she said, and having 
finished her own refreshments, she passed the plate 
of cake. The first frightened girl refused it. 

Oh, yes, you must, for it looks so nice. Ro- 
melia, take this piece,” and the girls, in utter misery 
of soul, unwillingly helped themselves, nibbling 
slowly at the edges. Mrs. Conway talked calmly 
on, asking questions and answering them herself, 
telling a little joke or two about past school feasts, 
and making herself just as charming as she always 
was in her own parlor, while the girls soberly choked 
down their goodies, as if they had been stones. It 
was their principal who passed the refreshments, 
laughed over the improvised dishes, and kept them 
unrelentingly at it till every mouthful was gone. 

“ Let me see,” she said meditatively. “ It must 
be three or four years since we have had a school 
feast. The girls don’t seem to care about them. 
You are all new girls here to-night, are n’t you ? 
Now if you want another at any time, let me know 
beforehand and Brenda can bring you up some 
dishes. Hair-pin trays and tooth-brush mugs are 
not really appetizing. And always be sure to have 
on warm clothing underneath your wrappers. I 
might not happen to be here to look after it another 
time, so I want to be sure you will be careful. Now, 
are n’t you getting sleepy ? Perhaps we ’d better 


73 


Boarding-School Days. 

break up now, fey: it ’s getting late and it 's a school- 
day to-morrow. These things ought to be arranged 
for Friday night. You may all leave your lights 
burning, and I will come presently and put them 
out myself. Good-night, all. Go quietly so as not 
to disturb the others.” 

The warning was not necessary, for the girls stole 
away like mice at the first word. Mrs. Conway re- 
mained till the last one was gone. 

“ Well, have you all had a nice time ? ” she asked 
Lodema, as interestedly as if an opera had been in 
question. 

'‘Ye — es,” replied Lodema, somewhat doubtfully. 
She had been so dazed by the whole performance 
that she was not quite sure whether this was or was 
not an ordinary school feast. Then her curiosity 
got the better of her. 

“ Romelia said you 'd be awfully mad if you 
found it out. I guess she did n’t know you were 
coming ? ” 

“ Perhaps not. Oh, no, I would not be angry 
even if I did n’t know it. Midnight feasts are not 
against the rules. Only be careful about over-eat- 
ing, that ’s all, and taking cold. If Romelia had 
happened to ask any old girl, she would have been 
told. But, as I said, the girls have feasts very sel- 
dom. They don’t seem to care about them. You 
can ask any old girl and she will tell you that there 


74 


A Nest of Girls. 


has not been one for a very long time. Are you 
both ready for bed ? Then good-night.” 

Miss Douglas was nearly devoured by curiosity 
over Mrs. Conway’s long tarry in the banquet-room. 
She had supposed that the principal simply intended 
to speak to the girls and scatter them, but instead, 
a full half hour had slipped by. She left her gas 
burning brightly and her door open, hoping that 
Mrs. Conway would drop in a moment and tell her 
about it, and she was not mistaken. 

“ Still up ? ” her chief said, coming in quietly. 

You must be tired. Yes, they are all in their 
rooms now, and I will put out their lights myself. 
Oh, no, thank you, I prefer to do it. I am glad 
that the dear children don’t elect to do this often, 
for it ’s a little wearing. Yes. I helped them eat 
up every mouthful.” 

As the situation dawned on her, Winifred col- 
lapsed on the bed like a school-girl, herself. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Conway! If I ’d only been there to 
see! Just to imagine you sitting on a bed, and 
eating crackers toasted on a hat-pin! ” 

“ I freely admit there ’s a strong flavor of the 
ludicrous in it,” the other answered, smiling broadly, 
“ and not the least was the children’s solemn faces. 
Dear little souls! Well, the tradition of this will 
last another three years. I really mean what I say, 
though, and I don’t object in the least to an 


75 


Boarding-School Days. 

occasional celebration, though you know I am strict 
about the absolute quiet after half-past nine as a 
rule.’^ 

** I see now why you were rash enough to say 
there were seldom any such things here,” said Wini- 
fred. “You are certainly right. I can’t imagine 
there being any more this year.” 

“ The tradition of scanty fare at boarding-school 
dies hard,” said Mrs. Conway, turning to the door. 
“ A romantic, silly child like Romelia does n’t 
realize the condition of things that brought about 
many of the scrapes of former times. Good-night. 
I am sorry you have lost so much sleep.” 

Romelia’s light was out when Mrs. Conway passed 
her door, but she was saying, in a suspiciously dis- 
tinct voice : 

“ That nasty Judith Champney! She planned 
the whole thing, then she wiggled out and told on 
us and left us to bear the whole blame, sneaky 
thing ! ” 

Mrs. Conway passed on, without comment, but 
with some surprise. It was perfectly absurd to con- 
nect Judith with it at all. She had not even been 
sure that Romelia was at the bottom of it, but this 
looked amazingly like a guilty conscience. How- 
ever, she left the affair to develop as it would, 
knowing that time brings most things to the sur- 
face. Much of her success in dealing with 


76 


A Nest of Girls. 


girl-nature, indeed, lay in this very patience in let- 
ting things drift and keeping keen watch till the 
right moment. She was careful to refrain from 
bearing down on a girl on mere suspicion, even if cir- 
cumstances were doubtful. She knew well enough 
that many actions of people in general are really 
motiveless, and spring from the impulse of the mo- 
ment, therefore she judged the girls leniently. On 
the other hand, if deliberate deception were really 
proven, and no excuse of girlish thoughtlessness 
could reasonably be taken into consideration, then 
the offender never forgot that quarter of an hour 
that followed. She would have faced a battery of 
guns sooner than again feel the sting of Mrs. Con- 
way’s lashing words and concentrated scorn. 


CHAPTER V. 


PAYING THE PIPER. 



UDITH CHAMPNEY had known perfectly well 


^ Mrs. Conway’s attitude toward a midnight 
feast, for Virginia Henderson had undergone pre- 
cisely the same experience when she came to school, 
four years ago. Therefore Judith, in egging on 
Romelia, knew very well that she was doing no 
special harm and that even if Mrs. Conway was 
aware that she had really instigated the matter, she 
would have said nothing except, perhaps, to ask 
Judith if she did not think it rather a childish joke 
to get off on a new pupil. Judith did not especially 
enjoy being called “ childish ” with the peculiar 
little tolerant smile with which Mrs. Conway was 
apt to accompany the word, but she had been quite 
willing to risk this for the sake of getting a “ rise ” 
out of Romelia by letting her go on with her feast 
and then have the mortification of finding that it 
was considered quite an innocent and babyish little 
amusement after all. Judith would have scorned 
to shirk the blame of anything she chose to do, and 
as she was not impulsive, she generally counted the 
cost of her words and deeds beforehand, and paid 


77 


78 


A Nest of Girls. 


the penalty without a murmur. If she wished to 
“ step aside ” she would never seek an excuse for 
so doing. 

I chose to do it,” was all the excuse she ever 
vouchsafed for any short-comings ; she cared noth- 
ing for the mere appearance of evil, a dread which 
deters many weaker natures from wrong-doing. 
Even to Mrs. Conway, she never made any other 
excuse than this, but took the consequences with- 
out whining. 

Years before, when she had first come to St. 
Ursula’s as a day-scholar, she had deliberately 
broken a rule about keeping within certain pre- 
scribed limits at recess, for which the penalty was 
the loss of recess for a week. Having so carefully 
planned her time that she would not be detected, 
she explored the interdicted territory to her heart’s 
content, and then went quietly to Mrs. Conway her- 
self — not even to the head of the department she 
was in — and told her the whole story, calmly add- 
ing that as she had not forgotten the rule, but had 
just chosen to break it because she wished to dis- 
cover the reason for the limitation, she would in- 
crease the usual penalty to loss of recess for two 
weeks instead of one. Mrs. Conway, with her usual 
tact, accepted the child’s position and a genuine 
friendship had sprung up between them from that 
hour. Mrs. Conway was the first grown person who 




79 


Boarding-School Days. 

ever understood the wayward little thing’s peculiar 
logic and had respected it as not all for pure mis- 
chief. After that Judith had yielded a willing 
obedience to the principal of the school. 

After Romelia’s speech had made her so furiously 
angry, she instantly resolved to let the whole thing 
work out as it would, say nothing even to her 
friends, and if any chance threw unpleasant conse- 
quences on the girls inv^ved, to explain it all to 
Mrs. Conway. Nothing of that sort happened and 
all fell out as she had thought. But she had reck- 
oned without Romelia. 

Now Judith knew full well that she was not 
popular among her schoolmates; further, she knew 
that she was not even liked by most of them, and 
the knowledge did not trouble her in the slightest 
degree. She frankly said what she honestly thought, 
that popularity would be a great bore : it involved 
being pleasant to everybody, which she had not the 
least intention of being. Her nature was one to be 
entirely content with a small circle, or even with 
one friend, and to gibe comfortably at the rest of 
the world. She enjoyed, however, the sense that 
she was a power in school; that her word could 
down a project or carry it through. Every one 
thought twice before exposing weaknesses to the 
lash of Judith’s tongue, and timorous ones covered 
their tender points from her sight. Some of 


8o 


A Nest of Girls. 


them even curried favor with her to a certain 
extent. 

But quite suddenly Judith began to feel a new 
atmosphere about her. It was very little at first ; a 
slight sneer on a girl’s face; a veiled allusion; a 
glance with raised eyebrows; oh, Judith was quick 
to feel it all, although she did not immediately 
realize its cause. Girls who had never ventured to 
differ with her, contradicted her coolly. A sharp 
speech was met with a contemptuous laugh ; one or 
two boldly called her to account for some fault. It 
is quite true that all the rash ones painfully wished 
they had n’t, and retired from the contest feeling 
like Marsyas after his little affair with Apollo, but 
though Judith came off victor in a battle of words, 
the changed atmosphere chilled her very soul. She 
had never suspected that she cared so much about 
being respected and deferred to. What was the 
matter ? It was two or three days before even her 
friends found out. Then the ripples began to spread 
outside the circle where they had first started. 

A sneak.” ” Would you have thought it ?” 
” Really planned the whole thing and kept dark, to 
make all the others ridiculous.” ” Wanted to 
throw the blame on the new girls.” ” Backed out 
at the last minute.” “ Had n’t let her name be 
used, did you notice ? ” “Of course she told Mrs. 
Conway, to curry favor.” “ Pretending to be so 


Boarding-School Days. 8i 

dreadfully honorable about everything, too!” 

Sneak!” 

Unfair tradition to the contrary, the ordinary girl 
despises a sneak quite as much as does the ordinary 
boy. Many of the girls entirely believed Romelia’s 
version of the affair, and there was no reason, in- 
deed, why they should not. Many of them knew 
Judith only as a clever, sharp-tongued girl, and 
feared her desperately, and those who had figured 
on that famous Tuesday night, felt that they had 
cut a very ridiculous figure, and resented it. They 
could not criticize Mrs. Conway’s attitude, for that 
they had brought on themselves ; but as they 
thought some one must be to blame for the affair’s 
leaking out, they were only too glad to have as scape- 
goat so prominent a figure as Judith Champney. 

Judith herself kept absolute silence, as the truth 
of the matter began to dawn on her, and her friends 
hoped that she did not hear the rumors. They did 
not in the least understand it — only, whatever it 
was, it was nonsense. They held many discussions 
over it all in the next two or three days. 

'' She did propose it to Romelia for a joke,” Vir- 
ginia bore witness, ” but she meant to shunt her off 
at the last minute by telling her, if necessary, what 
Mrs. Conway would do if she knew it.” 

” But it 's perfectly absurd to even hint that 
Judith told,'' said Hester impatiently. ” It was n’t 


82 


A Nest of Girls. 


any importance, anyway. We all know what Mrs. 
Conway thinks about it. Simply that it 's silly. 
Why do they keep insinuating ' sneak ’ ? ” 

‘‘ Girls,” put in Valentine Clifford, sensibly, 
” let ’s ask Judith point-blank about it all. We 
know now she knows it, and we can defend her, 
with something to go on. Of course we ’d defend 
her, anyway, but now we don’t know exactly against 
what. ’ ’ 

Valentine’s quiet suggestions generally carried 
weight, and Judith was straightway summoned. 

She came unwillingly. It was Saturday morning 
again, and the time was the leisure hour before 
luncheon. The “Merry Chanters” were in the 
Clover room. Judith had kept away from the set 
almost entirely during the week, and had studied 
like a tiger. Her work had been brilliant enough 
to call out praises in every direction. An original 
solution of a problem in Trigonometry had been 
submitted to the professor of Mathematics in the 
college ; a Literature paper on the character of 
Satan, as portrayed in Paradise Losty had passed 
through more than one hand outside of school 
limits, on account of its cleverness. 

As she entered the room, the girls noticed that 
her eyes were unusually bright, and her freckled 
face unusually flushed. 

“ Don’t keep me, girls,” she began with an 


83 


Boarding-School Days. 

attempt at her usual manner, “ for the world is wait- 
ing for my ‘ Impressions of Dryden,’ which I must 
finish to-day." 

Hester Cameron, as usual, acted as spokesman. 

Judith, Romelia and that crowd of girls are 
saying all sorts of mean things about you which we 
know to be utter nonsense, and which we can’t deny 
intelligently till we know something about it." 

" Don’t deny anything. It ’s safer," said Judith 
brusquely. 

“ I said that we could n’t deny them intelli- 
gently,’’ replied Hester quietly. " The denial is 
a matter of course. Now, Judith, I won’t have any 
fencing. I ’m president of this club, and I ’m presi- 
dent of the class, too. I have a right to know what 
I ask you, and you know it. They say that you 
knew of that ridiculous little feast, the other night, 
and that you told Mrs. Conway. For goodness 
sake — ’’ suddenly dropping her magisterial tone — 

tell us how that little idiot could have made that 
up.’’ 

To their consternation, Judith flushed painfully, 
hesitated, then said with an odd little break in her 
voice, that affected her hearers as if a stone post 
had suddenly burst into tears: 

“ Of course, the possibility of my telling Mrs. 
Conway is too silly to deny, girls, yet — I may as 
well say it frankly — when I heard even Eleanor 


84 


A Nest of Girls. 


Scott say yesterday that she did n’t see how I could 
have done a mean thing like that, and I remembered 
that you all have looked at me queerly all this week, 
and that just possibly you might be thinking, too, 
that I am — a — a — sneak — ” the word was jerked 
out — I felt as if the earth had opened. It seemed 
to me I could n’t bear it.” 

J udith said this with as much expression as a talk- 
ing doll, but her eyes were downcast and her sharp 
manner had entirely vanished for the first time in 
her life. 

‘'I’m not like Browning a bit,” she said, after a 
moment, with an attempt at being herself; “ blame 
he could bear but not blame-worthiness. Now I 
don’t mind the blame-worthiness one scrap, for if I 
want to do a thing I generally count the cost and 
go ahead, as you know — ought to know, I mean. 
But I did think that my reputation was worth some- 
thing, and — and — when I found that so many girls, 
even those who knew me pretty well, I thought, 
could think me a sneak, especially in a babyish 
affair like this, — well, it hurts some part of my 
mental anatomy, but I don’t know what.” 

A little sneer at herself touched the corners of 
her thin lips. A more experienced group of listen- 
ers than the cluster of loyal girls would have seen 
easily what part of Judith’s ” anatomy ” was stung 
to the quick. Her fierce pride and her unconfessed, 


85 


Boarding-School Days. 

perhaps unrecognized, sense of superiority, mentally, 
over the rank and file of her schoolmates, her sure- 
ness that although she was not liked she could 
never be criticised had received a bitter blow. She, 
who not only scorned a lie, but the least shade of 
deceit or anything that deviated a hairbreadth from 
the most perpendicular uprightness ; she, who prided 
herself on an almost defiant acceptance of conse- 
quences for whatever she chose to do; she, who 
disdained an excuse as she would have disdained 
a theft, — to be entangled in the meshes of sus- 
picions, which, through the very smallness of their 
nature, cut her to the soul. “ A sneak! '' “A 
telltale!’' ‘‘Currying favor!” She writhed un- 
der the very ridiculousness of it all. It was one 
thing to make other people ridiculous and quite an- 
other to be sneered at one’s self. If the whole 
matter had been one of any magnitude, she would 
have borne serenely any amount of censure. Yet 
she felt, vaguely, that the girls were, in a way, only 
returning with interest all her many mocking 
speeches. No one had ever been sharper-witted 
than she among her schoolmates, and although she 
had little idea of the cruel lash of her own tongue, 
her uncompromising honesty confessed she had 
brought it on herself. 

Judith had spoken with her chin held high, with 
a little touch of braving it out, that was not like 


86 


A Nest of Girls. 


her. She was too proud to have, ordinarily, any 
touch of bravado. 

There was a moment’s silence after Judith’s last 
speech, and then Hester Cameron, for the first time 
in their long acquaintance put her arms around 
Judith’s neck and kissed her. Judith had so little 
mercy on the usual girlish sentimentality and 
gush, that her influence had kept the little circle 
remarkably free from it, but to the girl’s own sur- 
prise, she felt, for the first time, the need for the 
outward expression of sympathy, and with a new 
but not unbecoming shyness she submitted to the 
caress. 

“ Do have the consideration to tell us all about 
it,” said Valentine, to break the little awkwardness 
that ensured. ” Virginia says that she does n’t 
know the whole story.” 

Judith hesitated with some shamefacedness. 
Presently she spoke, oracularly, in a dramatic style : 

‘‘ ‘ There was a man who digged a pit. 

He digged it for his brother, 

And in the pit he did fall in. 

The pit he digged for t’other.* 

“ That ’s the whole story, girls. I did set Ro- 
melia on to getting up her absurd little spread. I 
do not consider it necessary to say ” — with a swift 
glimpse of her one-sided smile — that I did not 


87 


Boarding-School Days. 

meditate gracing the occasion, though Romelia 
naturally thought I did. I knew, as we all do, 
Mrs. Conway’s attitude toward a midnight feast, 
and was sure nothing particular would come of it, 
but of course I let Romelia think it would be a life- 
and-death matter to be found out. She — needed 
a lesson, and — I gave it to her, but as I think I 
hinted, I was like the Irishman. I opened my 
mouth and I put my foot in it.” 

” Poor Judith! ” said Lorraine, in her little coo- 
ing way. 

” Lorraine, you little idiot, stop kissing me. You 
never did before in your life. Well, Mrs. Conway 
got wind of it, as she generally does, and descended 
on them, and helped them eat their goodies ” 

” Oh! ” groaned Virginia, ” don’t I remember my 
one and only feast! The very name for months 
made me ” 

” Want to crawl into mice-holes,” finished Judith. 
” That was the way these girls felt, I suppose. 
Then not knowing Mrs. Conway as we know her, 
they at once jumped to the conclusion that she must 
have been told, in order to find out, and that I had 
that pleasing task. Hence these tears.” Judith 
was laughing now in her usual sarcastic way, but 
the girls felt that there was a different quality in it. 

” Now we know where we are said Virginia. 
** Little beast! I ’ll settle her! ” 


88 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ No,” said Judith with an effort, but decidedly, 
' ' the 'matter must be left alone now. I was an idiot. 
There is no reasonable doubt of that. And — and — 
I Ve had some microscopic views of myself, the last 
few days, and — ” it was hard for Judith to finish, 
but she had no more mercy on herself than on 
others. She swallowed hard and went on. 

” I always knew that humility was n’t precisely 
my strong point, but I did n’t quite take it in that 
my bump of that interesting virtue is an absolute 
cavity. I have been a vain, conceited fool, but I 
have been dragged by the heels over some pretty 
rough ground the last few days, and I ’m a good 
deal bumped. ’Nough said. Have you finished 
your Literature, Hester. 

” Judith, I ’m proud of you,” cried Hester, 
catching her friend’s hands. Judith jerked them 
away. 

” You need n’t be. I think Romelia is the same 
mean little sneak that I ’ve always thought her,” she 
avowed candidly, ” and I don’t feel called upon to 
forgive her. Perhaps I ’ll forgive her just enough 
to save my own soul, but not enough to do her any 
good. It ’s not necessary to talk about this any 
more, is it ? I don’t mind acknowledging that I ’ve 
been a horrid little Pharisee, but I prefer to make 
these comments myself.” 

Let ’s all go and see Miss Douglas,” suggested 


Boarding-School Days. 89 

Margaret, and the proposal was carried by accla- 
mation. 

Later in the day Hester, disregarding Judith’s 
injunctions of silence, went to Mrs. Conway, and 
unbosomed the whole story. The latter willingly 
gave her the permission she asked to quote her as 
saying that she had gained no knowledge of the now 
famous feast through Judith Champney. Then 
Hester sought the other girls who had been con- 
cerned. Hester’s sweet graciousness and charm of 
manner, her beauty and dress and position gave her 
word power and weight with all in school, and when 
she begged, as a personal favor, that these girls 
would see that the utterly groundless reports were 
contradicted, they would have broken their necks, 
as one of them cheerfully remarked, to please her. 
Hester loved power and responsibility, and her 
pride, though entirely different, was as strong as 
Judith’s. She loved to make people think as she 
did by sheer force of her personality. She was not 
old enough or experienced enough to analyze her 
own influenc^. She only knew that when she chose 
to take the trouble, — which she did not always 
choose to do, — that others generally came around 
to her opinion. 

The matter slipped into the past and was grad- 
ually forgotten, but unkind words leave an in- 
effaceable mark. Many of the girls that year carried 


90 


A Nest of Girls. 


away, in spite of the loyal efforts of the '‘Merry 
Chanters,” the impression that Judith Champney 
was somehow or other a little underhanded. I ’m 
sure she was disagreeable enough for anything,” 
they would add. Certainly Romelia had a cruel 
revenge for all the cutting remarks that Judith 
had ever made her, but the difference between the 
two girls was that Judith’s speeches were always 
scathingly true. 

Miss Douglas watched the whole affair with inter- 
est. Judith had chosen to show her her least thorny 
side, and Miss Douglas had an odd sort of liking for 
the girl, although she never vouchsafed her any of 
the little confidences that the rest poured out at 
various times, and never came to the Thistle room 
except with the others. But those who knew Judith 
realized that it would take more than one knock- 
down blow to teach her to curb that keen-edged 
tongue and to forego the temptation to say clever, 
slashing things at the expense of the weak points of 
those around her. Probably she would never be 
wholly considerate, even with the best intentions, 
for her nature lacked the saving grace of tender- 
ness. This is a quality that is born and not made. 


CHAPTER VI. 


HESTER’S ADORER. 

B efore the first month had fled, Winifred 
found to her delight that most of the dreaded 
girls had become her very good friends. The 
“ Merry Chanters ” were privately her favorites, but 
she was growing fond of many of the others also. 
The only ones with whom she had no sort of sym- 
pathy and who roused her wrath, were the girls of 
a certain small band, whom Virginia had dubbed 
the “ Sin-nics.” This set was headed by Maud 
Perry, as commander-in-chief and comprised the 
wildest girls in school. They belonged to the class 
that would sacrifice anything for a “ good time 
that would flirt from the windows, if possible ; that 
thought it clever to cheat teachers and slip out of 
regulations ; that studied barely enough to keep on 
the outer edge of the classes; that would come as 
near open impertinence as they dared, to any teacher 
who reproved them too often. These girls Winifred 
often longed to scalp,” as she said impatiently to 
herself, and she marvelled at Mrs. Conway’s long- 
suffering. 

Winifred had learned to love Hester dearly. 
The girl’s brightness and sweetness and daintiness 


92 


A Nest of Girls. 


were irresistibly fascinating to her, though she 
was perfectly aware that Hester had the faults 
of her qualities. Margaret Ward was a most attrac- 
tive, lovable girl also, interested in everything, and 
fresh, enthusiastic, and eager. For her first friend, 
Virginia, Winifred had an odd feeling of good- 
comradeship that was most unlike the relation she 
thought ought to exist between teacher and pupil, 
yet which semed to work admirably. Miss Douglas 
soon perceived that Virginia rather liked a good 
snubbing on occasion, yet she never in the slightest 
degree overstepped the bounds of perfect courtesy 
toward those in authority. Probably because it 
was such a novel sensation to her, she enjoyed 
nothing more than a “ good lecture’’; it was so 
comfortable to think all over your sins, now and 
then, she would say, and decide which were the 
“ least worst.” Winifred could never be quite sure 
whether Virginia ever took herself seriously or not, 
for she fairly revelled in talking of her faults, accus- 
ing herself of the most absurd deeds and motives. 
But Winifred soon noticed that her sharpest speeches 
never stung, that she rarely said unkind things, and 
never attributed disagreeable motives to others. 
She was frankly worldly, yet not frivolous, although 
she insisted that she was cut out for a society 
woman. She was often enough reckless in her fun 
and regardless of consequences, yet one always felt 


Boarding-School Days. 93 

that the droll, whimsical nature had good stuff 
underneath. 

Lodema Gathright had been much on Miss Doug- 
las's mind lately. The poor girl was anything but 
happy. There was no rudeness shown toward her, 
but she was simply let alone. Her roommate, 
Florence Elmer, a lively, chattering, rather empty- 
headed little thing, came as. near rudeness as any 
one, perhaps, but she, too, as a general thing, simply 
forgot her. Lodema was not an obtrusive girl, but 
on the contrary, rather self-distrustful, yet at home 
she had been used to a certain position and popu- 
larity, for she was good-natured and jolly when 
entirely at her ease. Here at school, however, life 
seemed to her a new and very dreary affair. She 
scarcely understood the girls as they chattered all 
round her, in the school parlor after dinner, talking 
of the hundred and one things that they had in 
common, but of which she knew nothing. She was 
by no means plain, or would not have been had she 
known how to dress or to wear her clothes, or had 
carried her tall figure well. She had good, clear 
eyes and a pleasant smile and was pathetically ready 
to respond to the smallest advance. It made Miss 
Douglas fairly ache to see how her face would 
brighten if one of her schoolmates addressed even 
the most casual remark to her, or smiled a more 
cordial good-morning than usual. Miss Douglas 


94 


A Nest of Girls. 


herself tried to bring a little pleasure into her daily 
round, by stopping to chat with the girl, when she 
met her in the corridor, or asking her to her room 
at odd times, or sometimes by taking her out to 
walk all by herself. Lodema happened to be a lazy 
girl also, and did not even do things that she might 
have done to straighten matters out a little, and 
Miss Douglas found many an opportunity to arouse 
her to a sense that every one must do her share in 
the little school-world as in the larger one of life. 

One day Winifred found an opportunity she had 
been waiting for to bring the subject to Hester's 
consideration. 

“ One might as well be fond of — Lodema Gath- 
right, for instance," Hester said, apropos of some- 
thing. 

" Well, you might do worse," smiling. 

"Miss Douglas! what — why — do you expect 
we 'd be intimate with her f " 

"You need not be ‘ intimate ' with her, my ex- 
clusive little maid, but I think that a good dose of 
Lodema Gathright might not do Hester Cameron 
any harm." 

" Miss Douglas ! " 

" Yes, I do, in spite of this indignant face," per- 
sisted Winifred, still smiling. " And incidentally, 
you might brighten a forlorn girl’s life a little. 
You funny creatures! why do you always fancy 


95 


Boarding-School Days. 

that a little good-fellowship is going to commit you 
to an irrevocable intimacy, which would suit Lo- 
dema no more than it would your dainty self.” 

Hester was dumb with sheer amazement. 

“ I have taken pains lately to have Lodema in 
here, when I can, and she is a good, simple soul, 
not coarse, or innately common,” went on Winifred, 
stroking Hester’s black head, as it lay on her knee. 
“ Not especially refined, either, perhaps, but noth- 
ing that would hurt your serene highness one atom. 
What harm do you think it would do you to talk to 
Lodema, sometimes, in friendly school-girl fashion ? 
What do you know of any life outside of the narrow 
little circle which you have been brought up in ? ” 

“ Narrow ? ” gasped Hester. 

** Certainly,” returned Winifred coolly. ‘‘ Life is 
bound to be narrow if we never enlarge its scope. 
See everything. Know all classes. Search for the 
good in all. Notice if other people do things differ- 
ently or better than you. Get new points of view. 
That ’s the only way to learn to live. You were 
telling me the other day how you longed to live, 
really, 

“ And you think that cultivating Lodema Gath- 
right will help me to live ?” questioned Hester, a 
flash of fun chasing away her momentary indig- 
nation. 

“ Everything outside of our own little horizon 


96 


A Nest of Girls. 


helps us, saucebox, to enlarge our lives. What do 
you know of any way to live except the way in 
which you and your immediate friends do ? -Yet 
think what an infinitesimal portion of the world 
you are. Ah, you don’t like that.” 

” I suppose we live in a perfectly proper way,” 
Hester answered, with her head in the air. 

” I suppose you do, little Miss Injured Dignity, 
yet there are plenty of other ways quite different 
from yours and quite as pleasant to the — livers. 
That ancient pun was not intended. Lodema, for 
instance, has a very interesting life at home, I find. 
That is not saying that you or I would enjoy it bet- 
ter than our own, you understand, but neither would 
she care for ours. She belongs to a social type 
that I never happened to encounter. I know that 
there were girls at college exactly like her, but I was 
not wise enough to know them.” 

” Who wants to know them ? ” rebelliously. 

” I do. I am wiser now. I have talked with 
Lodema a good deal of late, and she has told me 
much about her home conditions, and incidentally 
she has thrown much light on certain points of So- 
cial Economics that always puzzled me at college, 
simply for want of proper data.” 

” Are you advising me to take up Lodema Gath- 
right for her sake or my own ? ” Hester asked, with 
mischief in her violet eyes. 


97 


Boarding-School Days. 

“ I don’t dare say, principally for j/ours/' an- 
swered Winifred promptly, “ for fear you would 
say you did n’t wish to be selfish.” 

” Now, Miss Douglas, that ’s mean of you. If 
you want me to beam on her all day long, simply 
say so, and the sacrifice shall be made.” 

Seriously, sweetheart, I know that well enough, ’ ’ 
returned Winifred, bending over the pink-flushed 
cheeks to kiss them. “You are not a selfish girl; 
only self-absorbed, like all you young things. You 
all let lives go on beside your own, with no thought 
for their happiness, unless in some way they con- 
tribute to yours. You whisk Margaret Ward into 
your jealously guarded circle, or Harvey Sherwood, 
because they have been brought up as you have 
been and think about as you do, but I don’t think 
you had in your minds the giving tkem any pleasure. 
Now that is all right and proper. It is the principle 
of natural selection and the world could not get on 
without it. At the same time to bar the gates of 
your good-will with a sort of ‘ I-am-holier-than- 
thou ’ air ” 

“ Oh, Miss Douglas ! ” cried horrified Hester, 
“ at least, I am not a snob ! ” 

“Not wittingly, I am sure. But you are merci- 
less on those that think differently. Your own 
standard is the standard for all the world, in your 
eyes.” 

7 


98 


A Nest of Girls. 


** You are terribly severe, Miss Douglas,” said 
Hester, with lowered eyelids. 

“ I think I am, and there is need to be. I see 
you girls, the ‘ Merry Chanters,* all bound up in 
your own little affairs, with no thought for any one 
outside. Here are thirty other girls as well-born 
and as well-bred as your precious selves, if we except 
about half a dozen. Romelia Dransfield is, to be 
sure, as common as she is rich, and I might name a 
few more. Careful as Mrs. Conway is about your 
associations, ill-bred girls will get in, of course. 
Now, all I am recommending is more genuine good- 
will toward the rest of your little school world. 
Don’t be so thoughtlessly self-absorbed. The mis- 
ery you inflict is so terribly out of proportion to the 
cause.” 

Hester drew her breath quickly, but did not 
speak. She could scarcely believe that it was she 
herself, Hester Cameron, who was being called 
selfish and narrow and cruel. 

” In regard to Lodema,” Winifred went on, ” I 
don’t want you to be condescendingly nice to her 
and feel virtuous all the time. I want you to see if 
Hester can’t get some broader views of life by talk- 
ing to her occasionally.” 

Hester lifted a flushed face, with a shamefaced 
glance. 

How you do see one’s weak points! No, I 


Boarding-School Days. 99 

don’t mind — much. I have had some plain truths 
lately, from more than one source. At first, I 
thought it was only Romelia’s nonsense, but I — I 
almost think she had some justice. I did n’t see it 
before. How curious it is. Miss Douglas! The 
things you think are horrid in you, perhaps others 
don’t notice much, and what you think are only 
pretty, harmless little weeds, may be poisonous 
berries. But, Miss Douglas, I — do hate common 
people, and Lodema is common. I don’t mind her 
queer dress or her gawky manners, but I think she ’s 
just plain common,” finished Hester resolutely. 

“You dear little girl, just get the right stand- 
point and nobody who is not coarse or vulgar is 
common, or even, I sometimes think, commonplace. 
Lodema has not, perhaps,” smiling, ” exalted ideas 
of life. Her ambition is bounded by expecting to 
marry, some day, a comfortable farmer, and having 
a ‘ real good wedding,’ and a ‘ good set-out,’ what- 
ever that is, for so she confided to me. I tell you 
because it is very interesting to me to get her ideas 
of life; not to comment on them.” 

” Her range of thought is certainly not lofty,” 
put in Hester, with a touch of scorn that Winifred 
resented on her lovely mouth. ” For a wonder, I 
happened to speak to her yesterday, as I passed 
the window in our corridor where she was standing, 
looking out. I said what a lovely day it was, and 


L.ofC. 


lOO 


A Nest of Girls. 


she said, ‘Yes, just splendid for washing!’ The 
clothes were all hanging up in the yard.” 

“Why — ” Miss Douglas began to say, then 
changed her mind, and asked, “what did you say? ” 

“ I — I am afraid that I just lifted my head and 
sailed away,” murmured Hester, from the depths of 
Miss Douglas’s lap. “ Oh, I believe I said that not 
being born a washerwoman it had n’t struck me.” 

“ Oh, Hester!” 

“ Truly, I did n’t think how horrid that was. 
But, Miss Douglas, it was so prosaic in her ! There 
was that glorious blue sky and those wonderful 
bare elm-branches tossing against it, and the green 
of the distant water, all dragged down to the level 
of — wash-day ! ” 

“ Is n’t it odd,” said Winifred, after a moment, 
“ that Lodema should have told me the same story 
from her point of view ? ” 

“ Her ’s ? I should n’t think there was but one 
point to that.” 

I believe I ’ll tell you our conversation. Lo- 
dema was in here last night, and for the first time 
discussed you girls a little. ‘ Pa sent me here,’ she 
said, ‘ to get polished. He wanted me to know 
some nice girls. But if these girls here are polished 
then I ’d rather stay rough. Ma ’d take my head 
off if I was as rude to folks in my own house as 
they are.’ ” 


lOI 


Boarding-School Days. 

Hester sat bolt upright. 

“ She spoke about you next. Shall I go on ?” 

Hester's chin thumped assent against Miss Doug- 
las’s knee. 

There ’s Hester Cameron. Everybody ’s 
praising her up, and I think an awful sight of her, 
but she never notices me any more than the dust 
under her feet. It ain’t polite and I don’t care if 
she is polished. To-day I was looking out of the 
window and it was such a sweet, pretty day, and 
Bridget’s clothes were hanging on the line, so white 
and nice, and they looked like white birds, all tug- 
ging and pulling to get away and fly up to that 
beautiful blue sky to be white clouds. Hester 
came along and happened to speak and I said some- 
thing about the wash and all that, and all she said 
was that she was n’t a washerwoman; and no more 
am I, Miss Douglas, and it hurt my feelings dread- 
fully. Ma ’d take my head off if I snubbed any one 
like that.’ ” 

Hester’s tall figure slipped to the floor. Laying 
her graceful head on the rug, she lifted Miss Doug- 
las’s foot and put it on her head. 

** Hester! you child ! what are you doing ? ” cried 
Winifred, drawing away her foot. 

“ I ’m all in little pieces,” said Hester meekly. 
** You ’ve chopped me up, and now you may dance 
on me. Perhaps you ’ve suspected, for I see I can’t 


102 


A Nest of Girls. 


keep anything from your sharp eyes, that if I prided 
myself on anything, it was on my toleration and 
trying to be nice to the girls I did n’t care for. 
I ’ve evidently taken it out in priding. No, I’m 
not going to get up. I want to be trodden on.” 

“ But I want to talk to you and I can’t if you 
make a rug of yourself. That ’s right. Sit up and 
put your head down here again. I have more sur- 
prises for you.” 

Miss Douglas, I positively can’t stand any 
more.” 

” Let me talk to you a little longer and finish. I 
can’t let Lodema get a moral hurt for the sake of 
sparing you, dear. She will be glad enough to get 
back to her native heath, but this year will influence 
her whole life. I felt it strongly last night when 
she was here, for I noticed a strain of bitterness in 
her which your speech to her had brought to the 
surface, for, Hester, prepare to be astonished — she 
admires you with all her heart and worships the 
very ground you walk on.” 

Hester fell off the cushion, in her blank amaze- 
ment, and sat dumbly staring at Miss Douglas. 

” I thought you did n’t realize it, dear! ” said 
Winifred. 

” Realize it! ” ejaculated Hester feebly. 

“ She adores everything about you; ties her cra- 
vats like yours, brushes her hair off her forehead 


Boarding-School Days. 103 

as you do, and is trying to carry her head like 
yours.” 

” Oh!” groaned Hester. “ Is that the reason 
that she has looked lately as if she had swallowed a 
ramrod ? Miss Douglas, if the original is like the 
copy, I ’ll turn into a purple cow at once.” 

Winifred would not stop to laugh. 

” She watches eagerly for every word you say 
and lives all day on the delight of it, if you happen 
to be — civil.” 

” How awful! ” murmured Hester. ” I should 
think she would have died of unrequited affection 
long ago.” 

” You need n’t be frivolous, dear. I am in earn- 
est. If you don’t like the way you have taught me 
to talk to you, you have the remedy in your own 
hands.” 

” Of going away. Yes, Miss Douglas. If I ever 
went away cross, would you ever talk to me like 
this again ? ” 

” Try it at any time you like,” said Winifred, 
tweaking her hair. “You may be sure you would 
always find my door open to you, but you ’d see 
nothing but one eternal beam on my face ever 
after. No more lectures. I won’t cast the pearls 
of my admonitions before— unappreciative animals. 

“ Indeed, Miss Douglas,” answered Hester, with 
a sudden change of tone, “ I love to feel that you 


104 


A Nest of Girls. 


will take the trouble to talk this way to me, — and 
perhaps you ’d better make the original quotation, 
for I feel like that interesting animal when I think 
I have been appropriating blindly so much unsus- 
pected devotion. Lodema Gathright ! 

“ Yes, Lodema gives you her love and unbounded 
admiration in the lavish, undemanding way, that 
only you dear girls can ” 

Hester gave Miss Douglas’s knees a vehement 
squeeze. She knew that she did a little adoring 
herself. Suppose she had to worship from afar and 
live for days on a scanty supply of absent-minded 
smiles ! She caught the hand that rested lightly on 
her hair and kissed it passionately, with a sudden 
queer little throb of understanding and sympathy 
for Lodema, that seemed like a tiny bond between 
them. Hester was not a very demonstrative girl. 
She petted Lorraine extravagantly, to be sure, but 
no one else, and she impatiently fought at times 
the overmastering impulse that drove her on where 
Miss Douglas was concerned. Her love was the 
sudden, strong passion for an older woman, which 
comes into every girl’s life, than which there is 
nothing sweeter, purer, or more unselfish, in the 
whole range of human love. It rivals the worship 
of a disciple, the tenderness of a protector, and the 
rapt devotion of a lover. It is unselfish, for it can 
fare on the least possible sustenance ; it is chivalrous 


Boarding-School Days. 105 

for it longs to show itself in daring deeds; and 
it takes a wise woman to deal with it. It may be a 
lasting inspiration to the young soul, or the mere 
memory of it in after years, may be a festering hurt 
of broken illusions and betrayed loyalty. 

But Winifred was wise, if she was only four-and- 
twenty, and the love she felt for her work was only 
equalled by the sense of responsibility she had for 
the impressionable, plastic natures which were her 
charge. She was brave enough to hurt sometimes. 

She bent and kissed Hester lightly, and presently 
she went on. 

** So Lodema pours out on you in silence all this 
love, for she would be much too shy to let you know 
it. Now you know that all love given us, whether 
sought or unsought, brings responsibility with it.” 

“ That ’s rather hard.” 

” It is true. You fascinate Lodema — and you 
disappoint her. Shall I tell you what else she said 
of you ? ” 

” I ’ll try to stand it.” 

” She said ‘ Some of the girls say Hester is stuck 
on herself ’ ” 

” Oh ! ” groaned Hester. ” In a boarding-school! 
Impossible! ” 

“I’m quoting. Then she said: ‘ I hated to 
think so, but I ’m beginning to guess it ’s true. 
She looks down on me because my clothes are n’t 


io6 A Nest of Girls. 

like hers and because I can’t talk, and she snubs me. 
I guess I know when I ’m snubbed. We don’t 
think it ’s polite at home, but these ‘ polished ’ 
girls who think such a sight of their manners are 
just dreadful and I ’m going to tell father that I 
don’t want to come back after Christmas. I ’d 
rather stay at home, where folks are polite. I 
won’t have a single manner if I stay here till spring. 
I ’d be awfully disappointed about my lessons, for 
I love my History of Art and it ’s done me lots of 
good already. And my Literature ! Oh, my! I’m 
going to make father buy me all the books we are 
studying about and I ’ll get polished my own way, 
at home, where folks don’t show that they think 
you are a fool because you don’t pronounce your 
words just as they do.’ ” 

Hester raised a blazing face. 

“ It ’s true, every word of it,” she said, her voice 
trembling a little. “ And we girls pride ourselves 
on our good-breeding! ” 

“ Now, dear, I think it would be a shame and 
disgrace to St. Ursula’s if a girl left with any such 
feeling as this, and Lodema must have felt the situ- 
ation acutely, before she would decide to go when 
she is so pitifully anxious for ‘ culture.’ Mrs. Con- 
way is practically powerless in such a position, for 
the happiness or unhappiness of her pupils does not 
really lie in her hands. She can prohibit open 


Boarding-School Days. 107 

rudeness or hazing, but you girls make the atmos- 
phere. What I have been saying is on Lodema’s side 
of the question, but there is a side for you, too.’’ 

“ Go on.” 

” You were talking the other day about the * tal- 
ents ’ entrusted to us. You have many — health, 
money, and position. I know you feel deeply re- 
sponsible for these. But you have one other most 
important one, my Hester, which you must not 
overlook. It is a wonderful talent, and brings a 
moral obligation with it.” 

** I can’t imagine what you mean. Miss Douglas.” 

” I mean the power which you have to such a 
marked degree, Hester — the power of winning love. 
How all the new girls are drawn at once to you ! 
Have n’t you noticed how delighted any girl out of 
your own set looks when you chance to single her 
out for a talk ? And among the ‘ Merry Chanters ’ 
whom do they all love best ? Hester. Who can 
bend any girl to her will when she chooses to try 
and make them glad to be bent ? Who but my 
Hester ? Why do I love you best ? Because — you 
are Hester.” 

Hester stared at Miss Douglas with incredulous, 
frightened eyes, then hid her flaming face again on 
Winifred’s shoulder, with inarticulate words. Am- 
bitious she was and fond of power, with a high 
disdain of anything common, critical of what did 


io8 


A Nest of Girls. 


not accord with her own girlish standard, but abso- 
lutely free from vanity. Her very unconsciousness 
of her own attraction gave her at times a touch of 
indifference. But Winifred knew her auditor and 
was sure the knowledge would not hurt her. Hes- 
ter never valued anything she did not work for, and 
the love that had always been showered on her 
seemed to her only universal kindness in those 
around her. 

For the moment, however, only the last words 
had any effect. 

Oh, Miss Douglas! ” she managed to say, “ is 
that really true ? Do you love me a little bit, 
really, and not in that horrid abstract way of loving 
our neighbor and that sort of thing ? ” 

Of course I love you, sweet. You know it.'' 

“ But you are just the same to all the girls," said 
Hester jealously. "To that sneaky little Romelia 
and that wretched little Maud Perry, and that 
funny fat Camilla Sawyer, and all. They all hug 
you disgustingly often. That adverb is for them, 
not you. I can't bear to see them touch you." 

Winifred smoothed Hester's flushed cheek. She 
understood. 

" I am really interested in every one of them in a 
— shall I say, in a scientific way ? I like the study 
of their human nature and the play of one on an- 
other, but I don’t love them as I do my Hester." 


Boarding-School Days. 109 

Hester drew a long sigh of happy content and was 
silent for a time. Presently she spoke, rather shyly. 

I ’ve been almost ashamed of myself lately, 
Miss Douglas, for thinking of you so much. Do 
you know that I have tried to keep away from you 
sometimes ? I never let my feelings run away with 
me so before. But — if you love me — a little, I may 
love you as much as I like ? 

Just as much, my girlie. Can I go on about 
Lodema, now ? ” 

“ Oh, Lodema! Yes, I can stand anything now. 
Even another scolding. I ’ll take Lodema to my 
bosom, if you like.” 

“ But I don t like. There is no question of any 
attempt at intimacy, as I told you before. She 
would n’t really enjoy the society of you girls, con- 
tinually, humiliating as it is to admit it. All that 
is necessary is to have a pleasant word in passing; 
once in a while dropping into her room, incidentally. 
Say a kindly word about her to some of the others; 
it would soon change her life radically. We can't 
afford, Hester, to let her or others go away feeling 
that the birthright of blood and breeding stands for 
nothing, can we ? She will take back to her home, 
where it is a great event to be sent away to school, 
the imprint she gets here. Surely we can do no less 
than live up to our birthright and make her feel 
that the ‘ culture ’ she talks of stands for something 


no 


A Nest of Girls. 


to us. Either way, the influence we have upon 
her does not stop with her. Lodema is never 
obtrusive ” 

“ Like Romelia ” promptly. 

“ Yes, like Romelia. I can’t conscientiously 
recommend any advances in that quarter. But 
Lodema would n’t be. You will find that she has 
surprisingly nice feelings. She would n’t step her 
foot over your threshold unless you asked her."' 

Let me see,” meditated Hester. ” Did n’t you 
say in the beginning that Lodema is to act some 
missionary part toward me, unknown to herself ? 
You seemed to think I needed some civilizing.” 

” Some broadening, yes. Get at Lodema’s views 
of life. She is often both original and interesting. 
Get her to talk of her village life. Some of the 
things she has told me of quiet heroism and patience 
sound like tales of Mary Wilkins’s. She has given 
me some altogether new ideas of existence.” 

” But how could I make her do this ? ” asked 
Hester dubiously. 

” Simply be interested in her, dear. She will 
soon feel that. And oh, Hester! don’t forget that 
you can do much for her. Don’t hesitate to talk to 
her, too, of some of your own ideas and aims, which 
are now beyond her knowledge. You can widen 
her horizon. You can inspire her with some of 
your enthusiasm. You have no conception how 


Boarding-School Days. 


Ill 


dull and shut-in most of these country lives are. 
God has given you so much, Hester! Share it, 
darling. These things are your ‘ talents,’ too. 
Give as lavishly as has been given you.” 

Hester gazed into Winifred’s eager face with a 
look that reflected the glow. 

I will. Miss Douglas! It never occurred to me 
that because the girls — well, liked me, that it gave 
me any responsibility toward them. Truly, I have 
only thought of it as a bore, sometimes.” 

” Yes, it gives you the responsibility of influence. 
You and Romelia might utter the self-same senti- 
ments, but you know no one would think of heed- 
ing Romelia, while your word would be quoted.” 

” Dear me! It ’s painfully like living on a ped- 
estal,” said Hester uneasily. 

” Those of you who have the gift of fascination 
have to live on a kind of pedestal whether you like 
it or not. You are not consulted any more than if 
you had instead a talent for art. You are a born 
leader, Hester, and you can’t shirk it. Common- 
place obscurity may have its advantages, but you 
are not offered them.” 

” How do you know girls so well. Miss Douglas ? ” 
asked Hester suddenly. 

Winifred laughed outright. 

“It ’s not a hundred years since I was a girl, 
dear, and my memory is still good. Do you know, 


II2 


A Nest of Girls. 


Hester, that I never dreaded anything in my life as 
I dreaded coming here ? 

“ Really^ Miss Douglas ? '* incredulously. 

“Yes, I was sure I could n*t do it. I said that I 
did n’t know anything about girls. I was afraid of 
you all. Oh, I ’m not now, miss. But you were 
all so dear, that I soon got over it, and was inter- 
ested in you all. I like watching your different 
traits come out — here a word, and there a look — 
here a shrug and there a curl of the lips or a smile 
— oh, you lay yourselves open to observation ! ” 

“ That ’s the way with Mrs. Conway,” said Hes- 
ter thoughtfully. “It ’s weird. The first thing 
you know, she is calmly getting off your innermost 
thoughts. Miss Douglas! Tell me one thing. If 
you — love me, why do you scold me more than any 
other girl and always sit on me on every oppor- 
tunity ? “ 

“Ah, why?” said Winifred teasingly, and 
would give no further satisfaction. 

“You ’ll probably see my wings sprouting in 
about a month,” pursued Hester. “ Talk about 
the responsibility of being loved! I should n’t 
think you could crawl under it ! ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


SATURDAY AFTERNOON. 


IRGINIA HENDERSON had permission to 



V go out to Lawnwood to spend an hour or two 
with Katharine Henry. On Saturday afternoons, 
the girls on the “ Optimae List” in the Senior Class 
could have special permissions, although all the rest 
were expected to have their friends call for them 
and bring them home from the Saturday outings, 
for in a college town much more careful chaperonage 
is necessary than would be elsewhere. Even with 
the “ Optimae” girls Mrs. Conway exercised much 
discretion in granting special requests and the least 
infringement of the specific regulations was followed 
by instant curtailment of privileges. 

“ I am sorry,’' she would say, inflexibly, “ but 
you know the few laws I make, and if you value 
privileges, you must keep them in mind. Forget- 
fulness is no excuse. If you forget that laudanum 
is poison, it can kill you just the same.” 

For girls who had proven that they could be 
trusted absolutely, it was a very easy matter to get 
special permissions of almost any kind, yet some- 


A Nest of Girls. 


114 

times girls whose actual reports were quite as good, 
would be refused the same requests. Mrs. Conway 
occasionally alluded to this before them all. 

“ Some of you say, now and then, that so-and-so 
is a favorite and can get anything she wants. I am 
not afraid of this charge of partiality, first, because 
it is untrue and next, because you have the good 
sense to see it is ; if you go over carefully the con- 
duct of the girl you envy, you will see that she 
violates, neither in letter nor in spirit, the essential 
rules of the establishment. Such girls can, indeed, 
get almost anything they desire, for their desires 
are generally reasonable. Moreover, such lists are 
open for you all.” 

It was never long before the newcomers felt the 
simple justice of their principal’s firm rule and even 
if pupils like Maud Perry and her ilk raged against 
the restrictions, they knew, down in their shallow 
little hearts, that they never deserved any special 
permission. 

“You will not feel the pricks unless you kick 
against them,” Mrs. Conway would say smilingly. 

Her justice and impartiality were admirably 
shown in the case of Maud Perry herself. Maud’s 
mother had been an exceedingly intimate friend of 
Mrs. Conway from their earliest school-days and 
they kept up their intimacy even when Mrs. Perry, 
after her marriage, had gone to far-away Helena to 


Boarding-School Days. 1 1 5 

live. Maud had been a most fascinating little thing 
as a child, and Mrs. Conway had made a great pet 
of her. She had kept her fondness for the girl, 
who had still some attractive traits even after her 
vanity and selfishness and frivolity had gradually 
grown more marked. When Maud, who had now 
been at school for three years, would go to Mrs. 
Conway to try to wheedle some permission out of 
her, as she always had done with her father and 
mother, she found, to her surprise, that while she 
often received the old-time petting, she had not 
an inch more of liberty than she deserved. It had 
not taken Mrs. Conway long to discover that she 
could not trust the child of her dear old friend out 
of her sight and Maud found, to her resentful 
amazement, that she could not work off her penal- 
ties by floods of tears and vehement protestations 
of future good-behavior. Indeed, Mrs. Conway 
had even told her mother that she was not a good 
influence in school and that, finding she had made 
so little impression in three years, it seemed best 
that she should be removed. But during the sum- 
mer Mrs. Perry had died, and Mrs. Conway, hoping 
that the girl’s shallow heart might be touched, had 
yielded to Mr. Perry’s insistence that she should 
take Maud back for one more year. 

Even Virginia Henderson, although she was on 
the “ Optimae List ” — after long struggles — did not 


A Nest of Girls. 


1 16 

very often obtain any unusual liberty. But this 
afternoon she was in high feather, for she was al- 
lowed to go alone to Lawnwood. 

The first time,” she had announced, exultingly 
to the “ Merry Chanters,” ” though I Ve worked 
like a dog for it. It ’s a great strain on the nerves 
to be good so long.” 

Lawnwood, a beautiful residence out in the 
suburbs, toward the lake, was fortunately near the 
street-car line, although Katharine generally went 
to school in the carriage. Katharine had always 
been as intimate with the ” Merry Chanters ” as 
a day-scholar could be, and they were all fond of 
her. Mrs. Henry often invited one or another of 
the set for Saturday and occasionally they had 
been allowed to stay for Sunday, also, coming back 
to school on Sunday night. Last Thanksgiving 
Katharine had had a gay little house-party of all of 
the set who could come to her, during the short 
vacation. Mrs. Henry had been another school- 
mate, also, of Mrs. Conway in those dear old days 
at Farmington. 

Katharine was eagerly awaiting Virginia and flew 
out to meet her. 

“You ’re atrociously late. I was so afraid that 
something had happened!” she cried, hugging 
her. Katharine was an inveterate hugger. “Come 
into the library. There ’s a big open fire there. 


Boarding-School Days. 1 1 7 

Are n’t you frozen ? Is n’t it awful for the first of 
November ? ” 

Virginia was cold and settled down luxuriously in 
the great chair which Katharine drew up for her, 
after taking off her outside things. It was a charm- 
ing room, that old library, wide, low-studded, and 
enticing. Book-shelves were all around it, to the 
height of five feet, and all sorts of distractingly fas- 
cinating foreign things on the tops of them. The 
draperies were of dull, rich. Eastern stuffs, and 
the chairs were deliciously quaint and luxurious. 
The great house should have had a large family of 
romping boys and girls in it, instead of one lonesome 
little body of seventeen, all alone with her parents. 
However, Mrs. Henry entertained a good deal and 
generally had some pretty, clever young lady stay- 
ing with her, for weeks at a time. Her husband 
was a professor in the college, and that brought the 
University life to them. Katharine herself was a 
pretty, fair-haired girl, with no very pronounced 
traits in any direction, but one of those girls whom 
every one likes. 

While Virginia was thawing out, the two settled 
down for the chattering and gossiping and nonsense 
that girls love. Of course school affairs had to be 
canvassed first, and the inside history of the last 
week discussed in detail, with many gusts of laughter 
and outbursts of giggling. Then Miss Roberts’s 


ii8 


A Nest of Girls. 


latest sarcasm must be repeated for Mrs. Henry's 
benefit, and Signor Paulini’s yesterday's explosion, 
and Professor Schloss's fits of temper, and Madame 
de Forestier's lack of discipline. Then, of course, 
they laughed themselves sore over Romelia’s feast. 

“ What fun you all do have! ” sighed Katharine, 
half enviously, when everything had been duly ven- 
tilated. “ Mamma, I almost wish that you would 
go away, so that I could go to St. Ursula’s! To 
board, I mean.” 

Mrs. Henry, sitting in the curved window near 
by, smiled knowingly. 

“ A homesick little wretch you 'd be! Do you 
think the girls do nothing but frolic at school ? 
Remember that Saturday comes but once a week." 

" No, miss, you know nothing about it. Because 
I come out here and am patient and resigned," in- 
serted Virginia, " you must not forget how my hard- 
ships are gnawing at my vitals.” 

‘ ‘ Hardships are nourishing things, then, ” retorted 
Katharine. "You 're getting as fat as a little pig. 
You do nothing but laugh and grow fat." 

" I am afraid I do laugh," acknowledged Vir- 
ginia mournfully. " I never can get any one to 
believe in my sorrows. Judith said yesterday that 
she could as soon imagine heaven without halos as 
Virginia without her grin. Think what a humiliat- 
ing thing that is to have said about one! ” 


Boarding-School Days. 119 

“ But you do have lovely times,” persisted Katha- 
rine, returning to her mutton. 

” So every one insists. All my friends seem to 
think that I do nothing but frivol continually. If 
I told them we had only about an hour a day to 
our blessed selves, and that we generally had some 
extra work that the schedule does n’t allow for to 
crowd into that, they 'd think I was making a harp 
of myself — like Romelia Dransfield. Oh, no, we ’re 
‘ getting polished,’ as Lodema Gathright says, and 
it takes all our time, for it ’s an arduous process.” 

” You ’re diamonds in the rough,” said Katharine. 
” Tell me, do you and Harvey still count up the 
days to the end of the term, and check them 
off ?” 

"‘Indeed we do,” answered Virginia, promptly. 
” It is exactly thirty-six days to vacation at Christ- 
mas.” 

” Why do you do that ? ” asked Katharine curi- 
ously. ” I know you really love school and enjoy 
every bit of it, yet you funny girls begin to talk 
about vacations as soon as you get back.” 

It ’s the thing, I suppose,” answered Virginia 
vaguely. ” The excitement of it. It ’s something 
to talk about. We all do it, yet it makes us ready 
to tear our hair to think of leaving dear old St. 
Ursula’s in June.” 

"" We used to do exactly the same thing at 


120 


A Nest of Girls. 


Farmington, when I was at boarding-school,** said 
Mrs. Henry, with a smile of sympathy. 

“ You see,” Virginia said meditatively, ” home *s 
a much jollier place to visit than to stay in all the 
time. At least, it is now before we 're out. You 
like the visit-y feeling, and your mother sits down 
and entertains you, and you have the things you 
like for dinner, and your favorite desserts all the 
time, and have nothing particular to do, and don*t 
have to put your light out at half-past nine — oh, 
there are heaps of reasons. But I ’m always glad 
to get back to dear old Mrs. Conway.** 

” She ’s just exactly my mother*s age,*’ said 
Katharine, a little resentfully, ” and that *s forty- 
six. Oh, there *s the door-bell, and I hope it *s 
Jack Churchill ! He said he might be out this after- 
noon. Do you know him, Virginia ? ** 

” No, but I *m dying to,** Virginia returned 
promptly. 

Katharine had her wish, for in a moment two 
young fellows, students in the college, were ushered 
in. Mrs. Henry gave them her usual cordial wel- 
come, and the circle at the fire enlarged after the 
introductions were made. Young Churchill had 
known Katharine nearly all his life, but his friend, 
whom he had asked permission to bring, was a 
stranger. 

” I ’m so glad to meet you, Miss Henderson,** 



TWO YOUNCx FELLOWS WERE USHERED IN. P(lge 120. 










^ >; 








>5 




» 


^ . V 



- 


I -t 

i 


j- 




:> ♦ 

W 


I 


»*ii 





* ■ .Vf .„ 

■•^Vv^*::*.-' . ;^r 






•w <1 • • ■ ^ ^ 

■'•-'• % . - -r 


■ 'L' ^ 

•. ^*4 if. . 



t 




•' ^ * ■-•'I* * 

>• .r.i('^»'' 


' 2 , 


« ^ . I ,, 


* > t- 



' . jj • • • ■ •• ^ 

% - - - 



f 





I2I 


Boarding-School Days. 

began Jack Churchill, dropping into a chair next 
Virginia. “ Katharine talks such a lot about you. 
And I 've seen you, too, walking on Andover Street. 
My aunt lives there and I ’ve seen you pass her 
windows.’' 

I should think you might. It ’s one of the few 
streets we can walk on with impunity. You students 
do limit us in our walks most abominably. I ’m 
thinking of suing the college to recover damages for 
nervous prostration, brought on by the monotony 
of always walking on the same streets to avoid you 
omnipresent students.” 

” But Andover Street is not exactly a secluded 
street. We do promenade even there,” said Jack. 

” Don’t we know it ? There are only little 
patches of it that we frequent,” sighed Virginia. 
” And we never think of going on Prospect Street 
on Wednesdays and Saturdays.” 

” What a pity ! Those are the only days we go,” 
observed Mr. Churchill. 

Virginia made a grimace. 

” I should think that that situation was a hole 
with a millstone around it. It does n’t take much 
penetration to see through it,” Virginia said, with 
her infectious laugh. 

” Tell us where you do walk on Wednesdays and 
Saturdays,” begged Jack persuasively. 

” That ’s the worst of a school in the city,” put 


122 


A Nest of Girls. 


in Mrs. Henry. “ In the country the girls are so 
much freer." 

" Good Heavens! The girls are free enough 
here ! " groaned Jack. " I beg your pardon," he 
added hastily. " I mean some girls." 

" You need n’t put on that sanctimonious air," 
said Katharine severely. " You know you encour- 
age them." 

" My stars! how can a fellow help encouraging 
them ? " broke out Jack defensively. " If I meet 
a certain pretty girl on the street every way I turn 
and if she presently begins to look at me as if she 
knew me and if she finally smiles at me a little with 
her eyes and at last makes a bit of a bow — why, a 
fellow would be a brute if he did n’t raise his hat." 

" That ’s all nonsense," Katharine insisted. 
"You might look away and not see her." 

" Would n’t know where to look. She ’s every- 
where. Who ’s that young idiot we went to see the 
other evening, Trent ? She ’s a case in point." 

" Oh, tell us! " cried Virginia, delightedly. 

" Jack! " said Mrs. Henry anxiously. 

" Oh, it ’s all right, Aunt Mollie," nodded Jack 
reassuringly. " What ’s her name, Trent ? " 

" Which one ? " inquired young Trent solemnly. 

" Need n’t get that gag off," Jack returned. 
" There does n’t happen to be but one. I know — 
Clarke. Lillian Clarke." 


Boarding-School Days. 


123 


Oh, did you call there — actually call^ and you 
don’t know her?” exclaimed Katharine, scandal- 
ized. Mrs. Henry listened, ready to interfere if 
necessary. 

Now see here,” began Jack, apologetically. 

’T is n’t my fault. Now here ’s this Clarke girl. 
All last spring she and another girl fairly haunted 
our footsteps. I don’t know why she did n’t select 
some other fellow, but the fact remains. She 
did n’t. She lives on Warwick Street.” 

Virginia and Katharine exchanged glances. 

” We always met them somewhere on Prospect 
Street on Saturdays — which you desert, you know. 
Miss Henderson — and I ’m sure they were down on 
Chapel Street every other afternoon in the week, 
were n’t they, Trent ? ” 

” Never missed,” corroborated Trent. ” Went 
at it this fall again. Then they got to blushing and 
looking away every time we passed them, most os- 
tentatiously. Then finally Churchill and I were at 
a matinee about two weeks ago ” 

” I did n’t know you boys indulged in matinees,” 
put in Katharine suspiciously. 

” Don’t very often. Never before,” said Jack, 
taking up the tale. ” Well, these two girls with 
four others sat just behind us.” 

“ But that was an accident, of course,” said Vir- 
ginia. 


124 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Yes, an accident,” assented Jack, rather dubi- 
ously. ” I mean an accident, of course. Well, 
they giggled and they gurgled and they called each 
other pet names, and they dropped a wrap over on 
Trent’s shoulder — accidentally, of course — in at- 
tempting to change places. Of course, he returned 
it to them. It was between the acts.” 

” Then,” said Mr. Trent, joining in, ” towards 
the end of that act they had a great deal of confusion 
and whispering and every one was scowling at them 
all around, when suddenly the Clarke infant leaned 
forward and tapped Churchill on the shoulder, and 
very prettily begged his pardon, but would he tell 
her what time it was, for mamma said they must be 
home at five, as they were going to a tea, and they 

had n’t a watch with them and ” 

“You ’re making that all up ! They could n’t be 
such idiots ! ” cried Katharine and Virginia together. 

“ On my honor, I ’m not,” protested Jack. 
“You were taking me to task for flirting, and I ’m 
showing you what provocation we have. However 
— I told her it was five o’clock, as — abstractedly as 
I could, and they thanked me gushingly and all got 
up and crowded and pushed out just as a cross old 
gentleman on my left was about to explode, and I 
hope to goodness they got to the tea on time. It 
was quarter after four, then.” 

“ Good! ” cried Virginia, clapping her hands and 


Boarding-School Days. 125 

again exchanging glances with Katharine. ** What 
next ? 

Next * was the next Saturday. We walked 
out to the Reservoir, and there were those two girls 
again. We did n’t know their names then, you 
understand. They were leaning against a wall, but 
as we came nearer they moved on. But they had 
dropped a handkerchief.” 

“ The little imbeciles! ” commented Virginia. 

” We knew what we were supposed to do,” went 
on Mr. Churchill. ” We picked up the handkerchief 
and read the name on it, Lillian Clarke, and then 
we hurried on and naturally they walked slowly, so 
it was not — difficult to overtake them. Of course, 
I gave back the handkerchief and of course we ex- 
changed a few words and of course I said that I re- 
gretted very much discovering that my watch was 
out of order that day at the theatre and had gained 

half an hour and I had taken it to be repaired ” 

” And of course the little geese believed you,” 
added Virginia scornfully. 

” Undoubtedly, Miss Henderson. Then I ad- 
dressed the girl who claimed the handkerchief by 
the name on it, and then she introduced her friend 
in a casual sort of way and I introduced Trent. 
Then they said they were tired and were just about 
to turn when we had come up. There seemed to 
be nothing to do but to turn and walk with them. 


126 


A Nest of Girls. 


We escorted them all the way to Warwick Street, 
and they chattered like magpies. Oh, that girl *s a 
daisy ! ’’ 

I think it 's just outrageously mean of you,’* 
Katharine burst out. I can just imagine you talk- 
ing and smiling and looking — as you would do at 
any girl ! ’ ’ 

“ Why not ? I could n’t very well be a boor to 
her, could I ? Even if she was a confounded little 
idiot. Oh, I beg your pardon, Aunt Mollie. But 
a fellow must follow a girl’s lead.” 

“ I don’t think so ! ” cried Katharine hotly. 
“ Now she ’ll be thinking she ’s made a regular con- 
quest, and here you are just making fun of her! ” 

“ That ’s her lookout,” declared Jack coolly. 
” If a girl makes herself cheap she must take the 
consequences.” 

” But they don’t know how you think of them,” 
persisted Katharine eagerly. “You are as nice to 
those girls as you are to us ” 

” Not on your life, I ’m not,” interpolated Jack, 
with emphasis. ” Please keep yourself out of such 
lists, Kassy.” 

Katharine smiled, well pleased at the old childish 
nickname that Jack . never used now, save when he 
was very much in earnest. 

” Well, you were nice to her, anyway. You can’t 
help being nice to girls, you know. Jack,” shaking 


Boarding-School Days. 127 

her finger at him. “ She probably thinks you ad- 
mire her immensely.” 

Jack and his friend both roared. 

” There ’s no shadow of doubt of that,” said Mr. 
Trent. 

” That *s what I say is so mean,” insisted Katha- 
rine. ” Then you go away and laugh at her and 
poke fun at her and how can she know ? She has n’t 
any brother to tell her.” 

” Do you know her ? ” demanded Jack sharply. 

” In a sort of a way, yes,” admitted Katharine. 
” She goes to St. Ursula’s.” 

” There is n’t a bit of harm in Lillian Clarke,” 
broke in Virginia quickly. ” She ’s only one of 
the girls who think that all the boys are crazy about 
her. And she ts pretty.” 

” As pretty as a picture,” assented Jack promptly. 
” Do you suppose I ’d walk round with her if she 
was n’t ? ” he demanded. 

” You disgraceful boy! ” cried Katharine. ” Do 
you mean you never care for a girl unless she ’s 
pretty ? ” 

” I mean what I said,” persisted Jack stoutly. 
” Do you suppose I ’d walk round with her if she 
was n’t pretty ? But if a girl is — well, our kind, I 
don’t care a hang whether she ’s pretty or not, if I 
like her. But I won’t flirt with a little idiot unless 
she ’s nice to look at.” 


128 


A Nest of Girls. 


Mrs. Henry, sitting a little out of sight, smiled to 
herself at the talk, but thought she would let Vir- 
ginia, who had no brothers, have a glimpse of what 
men thought of girls who pursued them, although 
Virginia's gayety and wildness never took this turn, 
as she knew. 

Have you seen her since ? ” demanded Virginia. 

Oh, you said you had called on her," scornfully. 

" Man is not a free agent. Miss Henderson," re- 
turned Jack, amused at her tone. " On Monday I 
was in a stationer’s when Miss Clarke and a lady 
came in. Miss Clarke bowed very cordially and 
spoke to me, and then she calmly introduced me to 
her mother, adding, ‘ He is an intimate friend of 
Stuart Miller.’ You could have knocked me down 
with a feather.’’ 

" What did the mother say ? ’’ asked Katharine 
eagerly. 

" Said she was very glad to meet any friend of 
Mr. Miller.’’ 

" Do you know him really ? ’’ 

" Oh, yes, after a fashion. Good enough fellow, 
I guess. Well, mother was very nice, and before 
they left, she asked me to call. I suppose she never 
dreamed I had never been properly introduced. 
Daughter said, why could n’t I come on Wednesday 
night, for she was going to have a friend with her. 
What could a man do ? She ’s lots of fun. I went. 


129 


Boarding-School Days. 

Saw the friend. Another pretty little fool from 
Brooklyn. Several other fellows dropped in. All 
nice in their way. Had some boss coffee and prime 
salad at ten. Was asked to come again. Think 
girls have n’t freedom enough in a college town, 
Aunt Mollie ? ” 

“ It ’s simply paralyzing,” murmured Mrs. Henry, 
who, though she was born and brought up in a col- 
lege town, never could become used to such tales of 
girls who were well-born and should have been well- 
bred. “ Just imagine a student getting entrance 
here who was n’t properly introduced ! Fortunately 
for that poor silly child, you happen to be all right, 
Jack, but how could that mother know she was n’t 
admitting a ” 

Mephisto. She did n’t. Do you think my in- 
gratiating manner that Katharine finds fault with 
had anything to do with it ? ” 

“ So much the worse, if your manner took her in. 
Mephisto is never painted as a boor. Such mothers 
must be incurably insane.” 

“ Should n’t you think,” said Katharine, appeal- 
ing to Virginia, “ that any girl would know that a 
man would make fun of her after all that ? You see. 
Jack comes here and tells me all these things and 
about his flirtations and shows me the girls’ notes. 
Some of them are so silly. And all these girls 
ought to know better. It makes me so ashamed of 

9 


A Nest of Cirls. 


130 

them. A girl like Lillian Clarke has no excuse 


“ Except that she has no brother,” commented 
Jack. That *s always the burden of Katharine’s 
lament, Miss Henderson. You see I stand in that 
interesting relation to her, for want of the real 
article. She takes these things to heart so. I tell 
her, girls will be girls — at least, some girls will be,” 
with the tolerance of twenty. 

“ Yes, thank Heaven,” put in Mrs. Henry, smil- 
ing, “ some girls will be girls. The others are only 
silly little geese.” 

Katharine and Virginia were exchanging glances. 
They both knew that Maud Perry and her set would 
do exactly the same things if they had the chance. 

“I’m sure they would n’t, if they only suspected 
how the boys make fun of them and show their 
notes around,” repeated Katharine. And then tea 
and biscuits were brought in. 

Virginia at last jumped up with a start. 

“ Oh, it ’s getting late, is n’t it ? I must be back 
at the barracks at five, for it ’s dark then. What 
time does a car go by, Katharine ? ” 

“ At half-past four. They run every twenty 
minutes. You ’ll have time to catch it, if you get 
ready now. Must you go, though ? ” 

“ I ’ll be delighted to take you home, if you wish 
to wait a little,” suggested Jack. 


Boarding-School Days. 13 1 

** Thanks awfully, but I could n’t possibly. 
Against the rules. It ’s my first Saturday out 
alone, and I ’m as proud as a peacock, or as a baby 
when it walks by itself. Good-by, Mrs. Henry; 
I ’ve had a lovely time. Don’t forget you promised 
to let Katharine spend the holidays with me. Thank 
you, Katharine, that ’s all I had. Good-bye, dear. 
Good-afternoon, Mr. Churchill. Good-afternoon, 
Mr. Trent. Oh, Katharine, I almost forgot to tell 
you — ” and a hurried confidence followed. 

“I’m sorry, Virginia, but if you really want this 
car, you ’ll have to go, dear,” reminded Mrs. Henry, 
after a moment. Virginia flew. 

“ It ’s the red car, you know,” called Katharine, 
after her from the door. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


GOING HOME, 


LAS! that extra three minutes’ conversation 



had been just three minutes too much, for 
when Virginia reached the corner, the car was 
twinkling gaily along, quite out of hope. 

“ Botheration!” exclaimed the girl, impatiently. 
“ I ’ve half a mind to go back and wait. No, I 
won’t though, for if I should miss another, what 
should I do ? I can’t get in till half-past as it is. 
I ’m so ashamed ! My first permission ! How dusk 
it is already.” 

She stamped her feet and walked up and down 
and said withering things about stingy old roads 
that ran only two cars a day. Presently a quick 
step behind her and a voice made her turn around. 

“ Still waiting. Miss Henderson ? Did you miss 
your car after all ? You should be nearly in town, 
by this time.” 

It was young Trent who had come up in the fast- 
gathering gloom. 

“ Don’t I know I ought!” exclaimed Virginia 
dismally. ” Yes, I missed it. I can’t truthfully 
say I am waiting here for fun. The last few cars 


132 


Boarding-School Days. 133 

must have run into the lake, for I ’m sure I Ve been 
waiting here two hours.” 

Mr. Trent consulted his watch under the street 
light. 

“ Just that time. It 's a quarter of five.” 

“ I have n’t an atom of confidence in your watch, 
for reasons,” laughed Virginia. “ Is n’t it cold! ” 

“ Yes; are n’t you frozen ?” 

“ I ’m as cold as cold toast and I don’t know any- 
thing colder,” said Virginia, stamping impatiently. 

Is that little twiddling thing up there our car ? ” 

“ I suppose so. Pretty prompt, too. It is n’t 
quite ten minutes of. Ours is a green one, is n’t 
it ?” 

** Oh, dear! What did Katharine say ? Green, 
was n’t it ? Yes, I ’m sure of it. I never went 
home alone from here before, and I never noticed.” 

“ My first trip, too. Churchill staid to dinner, 
but I have an engagement and could n’t.” He had 
waved his stick at the driver and the car stopped. 

Virginia, accustomed to be taken care of, allowed 
herself to be put on the car. Unfortunately, it was 
one that branched off soon, and went to quite an- 
other part of town from Tupelo Street. 

“ How dark it has grown! ” Virginia said, as they 
sat down. “I ’ll be awfully late. I ’m in for a 
regular sockdologer.” 

“ What a terrible thing! Does it hurt ? ” 


134 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Wait till you get one,” said Virginia oracularly. 
“ Though I suppose you students behave always 
with such perfect propriety that you never get any- 
thing but the highest praise.” 

“Oh, never. We receive ‘rewards of merit’ 
every Saturday night.” 

“ And when you get ten you receive a china mug 
with ‘ To a Good Boy ’ on it, I suppose.” 

“ Exactly. When I get enough, I ’m going into 
the china trade.” 

“ How delicious ! I ’ll send all my friends to you. 
Mr. Trent, you ought not to pay my fare. It is n’t 
proper.” 

“ Do you generally pay your own, when you have 
an escort ? ” 

“ Truth to tell, I never had a plain young man 
escort before.” 

“ Thank you,” said the “ plain young man.” 

“ Oh, dear, what have I said ? You know I 
meant ” 

“ Pray don’t apologize. People have always tried 
to spare my feelings before. It ’s a slight shock, 
that ’s all.” 

Don’t be a goose,” said Virginia severely. 
The little escapade was making her feel that she 
had known her companion for a hundred years. He 
was such a boyish, frank, yet manly young fellow that 
it would have been difficult not to feel at ease with 


Boarding-School Days. 135 

him. Virginia had liked him as soon as she had 
seen him. 

** Let ’s change the conversation,” she suggested. 
“ Are n’t you hungry ? ” 

“ Oh, beastly! Are you ?” 

“ Frightfully. I ’d enjoy a little dish of fried 
pyramids, even, or any dainty of that nature. 
What time is it ? ” 

“ Twenty minutes after five.” 

“ Oh, dreadful ? Are n’t we near Tupelo Street, 
yet ? Can you see out ? ” peering from the window. 
“ Where in the world are we ? I don’t recognize a 
single thing! ” 

“ It always looks strange at night,” suggested Mr. 
Trent comfortingly. “ I don’t know this route 
myself. Shall I ask the conductor ? ” 

“ Please. Tell him to stop at the corner of 
Tupelo Street. Why, we should have been there 
long ago ! ” 

Trent went to the door. 

“ Miss Henderson,” he said, returning; “ it ’s a 
most unaccountable thing, but we ’re on the wrong 
car. We should have taken the red one, which came 
two minutes after this one did. We ’re way down 
in Harrison Street, but we can transfer and get back, 
I find.” 

Virginia felt a little frightened. It would be very 
late when she got home. 


136 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ What is the nearest way back ? 

“ We can transfer at the next block,” Mr. Trent 
told her. “ Then we can transfer again at Main 
Street, for Tupelo.” 

There was nothing else to do, so at the next street 
they alighted, to wait at the corner for the other car. 
A car passed, bound in the opposite direction. A 
lady, sitting in it, the only passenger, was plainly 
visible. Virginia gave an exclamation. 

“ That ’s Miss Roberts! Guess she wonders what 
I ’m doing down here, for she must have seen me 
under this bright light. Yes, the car has stopped, 
and she 's peering out yet. I ’d like to get a rise 
out of her about it. How she would love to come 
down on me ! ” 

‘‘ Will she do it ?” 

“ She won’t have a chance. I ’ll tell Mrs. Con- 
way myself. Of course, I ’ll get my Saturdays 
docked.” 

“ Why ? It was n’t your fault.” 

“ Yes, it was. I ought n’t to have lost the car, 
you see, to begin with, and I ought to have been 
sure about the right one, to end with.” 

“ That was my fault.” 

“ No, I was in command of this expedition. I 
know Mrs. Conway will say so. I should have re- 
membered that Katharine said the * red car,’ ” Vir- 
ginia added as they boarded the platform. 


137 


Boarding-School Days. 

Meanwhile the cold gray eyes of Miss Roberts 
were still snapping. She had started to leave the 
car and join the two delinquents as soon as she was 
sure it was Virginia, but at that moment her car 
started and the other passed. 

Half-past five and that girl in this part of 
town!” she thought excitedly. “I happen to 
know, too, that she only had permission to see 
Katharine. With a young man! What deceit! 
Fortunately, they are headed for home. Mrs. Con- 
way shall hear of this.” 

Miss Roberts was really a kind-hearted woman, 
but she was one of those to whom no action is ever 
purposeless or accidental. She judged everything 
as the result of a deliberate motive. Never impul- 
sive or enthusiastic herself, she had neither sym- 
pathy with heedlessness nor understanding of mere 
coincidence. The girls never gave her credit for her 
real disinterestedness, for they did not feel it. Of 
Mrs. Conway they always said, “ She understands.” 

Would n’t Miss Bobby love to make a story out 
of this,” chuckled Virginia, on the homeward way. 
” Would n’t I just love to let her make a fine cock- 
and-bull tale for Mrs. Conway! ” 

” Why don’t you ?” 

“ ’T would n’t pay. Mrs. Conway would think 
it looked queer if I did n’t tell myself. Besides, we 
girls have gotten a good rise out of Bobby two or 


138 


A Nest of Girls. 


three times lately and Mrs. Conway has rather 
caught on. You see, Eleanor Scott had her brother 
send her letters every day for two weeks from the 
Waldorf-Astoria and Bobby got into a dreadful stew 
over it. She has charge of distributing the letters 
and of the correspondence list. She had Eleanor 
up and tried to surprise something out of her and 
Eleanor blushed tremendously — you never saw any 
one blush so beautifully to order — and fidgetted 
and finally when Bobby pinned her down, she said 
it was her brother. Of course, she was n’t believed, 
and Miss Roberts insisted on seeing one of the let- 
ters, or else reporting the matter to Mrs. Conway. 
And Eleanor cried and took on dreadfully and said 
she was n’t in the habit of having her word doubted, 
and beat around the bush till Bobby was simply 
raving. Then she demanded one of the letters — 
though no one but Mrs. Conway has a right to do 
that. So Eleanor stuck out a letter, crying awfully 
all the time.” 

” Can she cry to order, too ? ” 

Oh, yes, beautifully. Bobby just pounced on 
it and opened it and there was nothing but the mild- 
est sort of brotherly epistle. She glared for a mo- 
ment and accused Eleanor of substituting a letter so 
Eleanor just threw the whole batch in her lap. She 
read two or three and then she got perfectly white. 
Oh, was n’t she mad! ” 


Boarding-School Days. 139 

What did she say ? asked Mr. Trent, interest- 
edly, mightily amused by these annals. 

“ She got up with a ‘ haughty Lady Imogen ’ air, 
and said Eleanor’s conduct was most unbecoming in 
a lady, and that she still felt that Eleanor might be 
concealing part of the truth. ‘ Perhaps you ’d like 
to read mamma’s letters, too,’ Eleanor said, as in- 
nocently as a baby. She has a seraphic sort of face, 
as if she never thought of anything but harps and 
haloes. Then Miss Roberts flounced out of the 
room and said she ’d report her.” 

“Did she ?” 

“ Oh, no, she ’d know too much for that. Mrs. 
Conway would have lectured Eleanor on rudeness, 
of course, for she says it is n’t courteous to badger 
the teachers, and if it comes to her knowledge she 
raises her eyebrows a little and looks tolerant and 
you immediately feel about two years old and then 
it does n’t seem funny a bit.” 

“I’m sorry to say we ’ve arrived,” said Mr. 
Trent, signalling the conductor. “ I most sincerely 
hope, Miss Henderson, that you won’t get into any 
trouble on account of this delay.” 

“ Oh, well, I ’ve had a good time. You ’ve been 
awfully kind, Mr. Trent. No, don’t come up the 
steps, please. A thousand thanks. Good-night.” 

Virginia went directly to Mrs. Conway’s study, 
but found that she had gone to meet some out-of- 


140 


A Nest of Girls. 


town friends and would dine with them at their 
hotel, not returning till late. Therefore Virginia, 
thinking no more about the matter, went up-stairs, 
meaning to explain the next day, and delighted to 
find she was in good time for dinner. 

Miss Roberts, also, coming in about nine o’clock, 
found Mrs. Conway still out, so she, too, was obliged 
to delay her story of how she had herself seen Vir- 
ginia Henderson, at a late hour in the afternoon, 
laughing and talking with a strange young man in 
a part of the town far distant from where she should 
have been at that hour. 

As it chanced, however, Romelia Dransfield, who 
had complained for several days of not feeling well, 
caused an enormous excitement the next morning 
by going off into a prolonged faint, suddenly and 
quietly, at the breakfast table. She was carried 
away to the infirmary by two of the waitresses, and 
the doctor was summoned. It takes so little to up- 
set the routine in quiet lives that the girls were in 
a ferment of excitement all day. Some curious 
ones soon learned that the doctor and Mrs. Conway 
had had a long conference ; and toward night Miss 
Roberts was overheard to say to Miss Hastings that 
it was “ serious heart trouble.” 

The girls could think of nothing else for the time 
being, and as Virginia had chanced to sit next Ro- 
melia and had caught her as she fell, she had to re- 


Boarding-School Days. 141 

hearse the story many times that day. Altogether, 
her little misadventure of the day before soon es- 
caped her mind entirely, all the more readily, as 
she did not feel especially guilty. It was days be- 
fore she thought of it again, and when she did, it 
seemed too unimportant to trouble Mrs. Conway 
with. 

I fancy Miss Roberts must have given me the 
benefit of the doubt for once,” she said then, ” as 
I have never heard anything more of it.” 

As for Miss Roberts, her report having been at 
first delayed by the same reasons as Virginia’s, she 
finally concluded to say nothing about the matter 
for the present, but to watch Virginia herself. 

” Mrs. Conway does trust these girls so absurdly,” 
she thought. 

On that Saturday evening, when she had come 
in, Virginia had told Harvey Sherwood, her room- 
mate, the story and they had laughed over it 
together. Just before she went to bed, she said 
suddenly to Harvey : 

” Do you know that I ’ve been thinking that I 
should n’t have let Mr. Trent pay my fare this after- 
noon. I did n’t know how to help it though. I 
believe I ought to send it back to him. What do 
you think ? ” 

” Oh, don’t !” cried Harvey, scandalized. 


” What ’s five cents ? 


142 


A Nest of Girls. 


** It ’s not the five cents, goose,” retorted Vir- 
ginia scornfully; “ it ’s the principle of the thing,” 
she added grandly. 

*‘Oh, Principle!” mocked Harvey. ‘‘He ’d 
simply feel insulted.” 

“ No,” persisted Virginia, “mother’s always told 
me that the only things I can ever accept from a 
gentleman are flowers and candy. You see, he 
was n’t regularly my escort ; that, of course, would 
be different. Yes, I ought to send it back.” 

“ Then you ’ll be a big goose,” commented Har- 
vey conclusively. “ What difference does it make 
how much a man spends on a girl anyway ? I don’t 
see that it matters whether it ’s five cents or five dol- 
lars. The boys I know at home just love to give us 
things and are always doing it,” she added. Harvey 
had come out at fifteen, and had been in society 
two years when she took a fancy to come North 
to school for a year. Her Southern ideas often 
amused the girls immensely. 

“ Would you write him a note ?” questioned Vir- 
gina obliviously. 

“ If you are so anxious for a correspondence, 
yes,” answered Harvey sarcastically. 

“ Then I won’t. Mr. Churchill said the fellows 
made fun of girls who wrote them notes. I have 
it! I ’ll show you in a minute.” 

Presently, after much fussing and melting of wax. 


Boarding-School Days. 143 

while Harvey looked on curiously, Virginia tri- 
umphantly waved the result. 

First the date. Then, 

“Mr. Trent, 

“ Dear Sir: ” 

Then five pennies stuck down with immense seal- 
ing-wax blotches. Then, in a big flourish, 

“ Yours truly, 

“V. H.“ 

“ There! “ exclaimed Virginia, complacently, as 
she viewed her handiwork with pride. “ That ’s 
not a note, and he ’ll understand.” 

Harvey shrieked over it. 

“ Oh, you ridiculous girl! You won’t really 
send that ? Suppose he answers ? You ’ll get your- 
self in trouble.” 

“I ’ll fix that,” said Virginia, readily; and taking 
her pen again she wrote in one corner,” Do not R. 
S. V. P.” 

“ But Miss Roberts won’t let a letter go out to a 
name not on the correspondence list,” objected 
Harvey. 

“ Oh, well, I ’ll send it to my cousin Gertrude to 
mail for me. There ’s no harm in it, you see. I 
would n’t send a real note that way.” And, to do 
her justice, she would not have done it. The note 
to her cousin, asking her to remail the enclosed. 


144 


A Nest of Girls. 


was written in ten minutes more and the bell rang 
for lights out. 

Mr. Trent shouted over the note and took it as 
Virginia intended, but — student-like, he affixed it 
to his door with four brass-headed tacks and there it 
hung for anybody coming in to see, and ask, “ Who 
is V. H. ? ” 

Romelia Dransfield was in her place again on 
Tuesday, looking a little heavy-eyed, but otherwise 
as usual. Her skin was of the thick, white vari- 
ety that illness does not affect. She was put under 
the doctor’s care, although she said she had had 
these attacks before. Altogether she really enjoyed 
the little notoriety her illness had given her, for 
the girls had been frightened enough to be very 
sympathetic. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE ‘'MERRY CHANTERS.** 

FTER the corner of Thanksgiving was fairly 



** turned, the time flew fast till Christmas was 
actually in sight. On the last Saturday before 
vacation the “ Merry Chanters gathered in Miss 
Douglas’s room, were discussing matters. It had 
been rather a busy time, and Winifred had seen 
somewhat less of the girls than usual. 

“ Where is Eleanor Scott ? ” she asked presently. 
“ She has scarcely been near me for a week.” 

” Eleanor is on one of her tangents,” answered 
Virginia promptly. 

Valentine looked up quickly as if about to speak, 
then changed her mind. 

“ Eleanor always was a sort of metamorphic 
girl,” remarked Judith. ” Dr. Jekell-and-Mr.- 
Hyde-y, you know.” 

” It ’s odd about Eleanor,” said Hester slowly; 
” she can’t seem to choose definitely between our 
set and the ‘ Sin-nics.’ If she likes us at all, I don’t 
see why she finds any fun in that other set.” 

” They never talk about anything from morning 


lO 


146 


A Nest of Girls. 


till night but about students and dress and their 
flirtations,” added Margaret scornfully. 

“ She really has good stuff in her,” said Valen- 
tine, a little wistfully. “ She ’s very clever and 
does all her work well.” Valentine saw more of 
Eleanor than the others did, as she was her room- 
mate, and she was very fond of her. The rest of 
the girls bore Eleanor’s changeableness more pa- 
tiently than they might have done but for this. For 
days she would be everything that was lovely and 
then suddenly she was hand and glove with the set 
they despised. 

“ It ’s gone far enough, this time,” announced 
Judith decidedly. 

“What do you propose doing, ma’am?” in- 
quired Virginia. 

“ Tell her that she knows that our set represents 
the brains of the class,” returned Judith coolly. 
“ That is n’t conceit. Miss Douglas, it ’s cold truth. 
If she wants to keep in with us, let her drop that 
disgraceful raft. I caught that horrid Selma Han- 
cock whom Maud has picked up lately, and Maud 
herself actually — oh, I beg your pardon. Miss 
Douglas. I almost forgot that you were not one of 
the girls.” 

“ Say on,” said Winifred, tapping her shoulder. 

“ No, it is n’t fair. If we seniors can’t run this 
school properly and put down that sort of thing by 


Boarding-School Days. 147 

ourselves, it would be a pity. But Eleanor needs a 
dressing-down.” 

“ And will get it ? ” queried Winifred smiling. 

“ As sure as my name ’s Punch.” 

Romelia Dransfield looks very smiling, too,” 
commented Margaret. 

Oh, Maud’s taken her up also. Fancy she ’s 
made her useful, somehow. Does n’t Romelia 
beam ! ” 

“ And she ’s softer than ever,” sighed Virginia. 
“ She looked so doughy this morning that I longed 
to punch her to see if it would n’t leave a dent.” 

Plant her and what would she come up ? ” pro- 
pounded Judith. 

“ A squash! ” shouted several voices. That is 
too easy.” 

” I bet she ’s up to some mischief again,” went 
on Judith. ‘ ‘ I mean to watch, but she’s wary now. ’ ’ 

” Is n’t it odd ? I heard Mrs. Conway tell some 
one that she belongs to a good family,” said Hester, 
the Philadelphian, meditatively. ” I can’t imagine 
what she ’s done with them.” 

” Or they with her,” suggested Virginia. ” She 
comes from Western New York, somewhere, does n’t 
she ? ” 

” I don’t know. Are n’t we tired talking about 
her ?” asked Hester. ” Is your Psychology paper 
done yet, Judith ? ” 


148 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Yes, such as it is.” 

Don’t you think Mrs. Conway is a hard teacher 
to work for ? ” asked Harvey plaintively. 

“ No. How ? ” came in a chorus. 

“ She so seldom praises you, even if you have 
taken ever so much pains with your work,” ex- 
plained Harvey pathetically. The Southern girl, 
brought up on a diet of caressing love, constant 
petting, and endearing words, sometimes found the 
Northern atmosphere of work and duty and energy 
somewhat too bracing. The difference had given 
her many a homesick hour. 

” But she does praise one occasionally,” protested 
Hester. ” It would be ridiculous to praise us all 
the time.” 

” I wish I knew how it seemed,” sighed Virginia 
dramatically. ” I ’ve had just two morsels of praise 
to feed myself on this term. I chew the cud of 
those two whenever I ’m blue.” 

” I think she ought to say sweet things to us all 
the time,” objected Harvey. “I’m sure we work 
hard enough to please her. Now I spent one whole 
hour on my Psychology paper for yesterday and 
took heaps of pains with it, and what did I get for 
it ? just a polite, ‘ Your papers are somewhat better 
than they were at first ! ’ ” Harvey’s slow, sweet, al- 
ways slightly plaintive tones made capital out of the 
smallest grievance. The girls shouted over this one. 


Boarding-School Days. 


149 


Poor dear ! ” exclaimed Judith pityingly. 
“ One whole hour! I only spent two and got up at 
six in the morning to finish.” 

“ Why should Mrs. Conway praise you for simply 
doing your work,” asked Winifred, much amused. 
“ You are scarcely studying for her benefit, are 
you ?” 

” Yes, but, Miss Douglas, she told me to do my 
papers more thoughtfully and I didy'' persisted 
Harvey. ” I Ve taken more pains for several days 
and yesterday was the first time she has said a word 
about it. I was getting so discouraged. I almost 
thought I would n’t take pains any longer.” 

There was another shout of laughter. 

” Don’t try the falling-behind dodge, I warn 
you,” advised Virginia. 

” I still can’t see why you expect to be praised,” 
said Winifred. ” Do you think Mrs. Conway is an 
interesting teacher ? ” 

” Oh, yes, indeed,” returned Harvey, enthusi- 
astically for her. ” She makes everything so alive'' 

” I wonder if she takes any pains in preparing her 
work,” with a twinkle in her eye. 

” Oh, she must. She has such full notes for her 
lectures, and she knows every^\n^," 

” Moral!” laughed Hester, catching Winifred’s 
glance. 

” Yes, moral, saucebox. Harvey, how often do 


A Nest of Girls. 


150 

you tell Mrs. Conway that she is the most interest- 
ing teacher you have ever had and thank her for 
preparing her lectures so carefully ? ” 

Harvey looked blank, and Virginia pulled her hair. 

“ Come, now. Miss Sherwood,” she said, “ we 
will expect a speech from you on Monday, after 
Psychology. You will advance to Mrs. Conway, 
make your best bow and say : ‘ My dear Madam, I 
propose that we should form a Mutual Admiration 
Society for the Promotion of Praise and ” 

Harvey threw a sofa pillow at the speaker, while 
Hester asked suddenly: 

“ Do you really like to teach. Miss Douglas ? ” 
She had settled down on the floor by Winifred’s 
knee. The others were secretly amused at Hester’s 
unusual demonstrativeness, but they loved her too 
well to tease her. 

Yes, I love it,” said Winifred enthusiastically — 
“ much better than I thought I should.” 

” Even dealing with us monkeys ? ” asked Judith, 
with a grimace. 

” Even with you monkeys. Do you want to 
teach, Judith ? ” 

” Teach ? I ’d rather go out with dancing 
bears. I ’d rather sweep out ferryboats. I ’d 
rather be a barber.” 

” Thank you, that ’s enough. What are you 
going to do ? ” 


Boarding-School Days. 1 5 1 

“Be a doctor,” answered Judith promptly. 
“ I Ve always known what I meant to be.” 

“ Ugh!” shivered Valentine. “ How can you 
like to fuss over fevers and burns and all those 
nasty things! Think of the dissecting, Judith! 
You ’d have to touch horrid insides with your 
hands.” 

Judith looked at her firm, slender, white hands 
thoughtfully. 

“ I ’d even sacrifice my hands to the cause,” she 
avowed. “ What can I say more ? ” 

“ They are ideal surgeon’s hands. My oldest 
brother is a surgeon,” said Winifred. As she 
spoke, she stroked Judith’s hands lightly. Judith 
flushed a little and drew them away, while Wini- 
fred, to her surprise, felt a quick, involuntary jump 
of the girl’s muscles. Judith was the one girl of 
the set of whose firm affection she did not feel 
sure ; on the contrary, she often had felt uncomfort- 
ably certain that the respect that Judith was quite 
willing to pay to her position, did not extend to her 
personality, and she had sometimes been conscious 
that Judith checked a sarcastic speech or a critical 
comment only because she was too proud to be rude 
to acknowledged authority. 

“ I ’ll get hold of this child yet,” Winifred 
thought, with a throb of pleasure. 

Meanwhile Virginia was speaking. 


152 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Ask me what I 'm going to do, Miss Douglas. 
My future career will be a brilliant one.” 

“ Virginia wants to be a Ph.D.,” laughed Hester. 
“ She ’s going to college next year, and will then 
devote herself to the study of Social Economics.” 

“ College! No, you don’t. You can bet your 
best boots that I don’t. Social Economics! ” 

“ The study of Social Extravagance will be more 
in your line,” suggested Judith. 

‘‘ Nothing that is to be studied will be in my line, 
thank you most to death. I mean to study men 
and manners only. After I ’m out — won’t I have a 
gay time ! My dressing will be a fine art. I hate 
all this common chatter about clothes. I shall 
marry a trillionaire and live in a golden house in 
New York. I ’ll be 

‘ The leader of the fashion. 

And the dandy of Broadway,’ ” 

quoted Margaret. “ Poor Virginia! How we ’ll 
mourn to lose you from our humble circle! ” 

“ You won’t lose me. I ’m not proud. I ’ll in- 
vite you to go around the world with me in my pri- 
vate yacht. ’ ’ 

“ But we ’ll disgrace your fineness,” objected 
Margaret. “ My parents are poor, though they are 
honest.” 

Mine are not. They ’re wealthy, but they are 


Boarding-School Days. 


153 


knaves. I suppose they stole all their money. 
Don’t you think that father looks as if he had com- 
mitted forgery ? ” 

Those of the girls who knew Dr. Henderson’s 
clean-shaven, priestly face and grand head, laughed 
at the picture. 

“ So that ’s your ambition ? To be a leader in 
New York society ? Well, we generally get our 
desires — if we want them enough^ I fancy,” said 
Winifred, watching the graceful figure sweep up 
and down in fancied state. 

“ What is Margaret going to do ?” she added. 

I am going to devote myself to music,” an- 
swered Margaret, clasping her hands behind her 
head. ” Valentine and I intend to make you proud 
of us. I envy Valentine for her going abroad next 
year to Germany to study.” 

Margaret and Valentine were the most musical of 
all the set, and both girls had really unusual talent. 
Dr. Ward thought that every girl should be equipped 
to earn her own living, and meant to cultivate Mar- 
garet’s tastes with this view, in case of necessity, 
and Valentine Clifford knew that she would one day 
be obliged to earn hers. Her father was an author 
of repute in scientific lines, but alas! this sort of 
fame does not bring fortune in its train. 

” How about Hester ?” asked Winifred of that 


young woman. 


154 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ I ? Oh, I want to have something of my own 
to manage,” said Hester, pondering. “ I 'd like 
to found a college or run for mayor. Or I Ve often 
thought I ’d like college-settlement work. Some- 
times — don’t laugh — I ’ve thought I ’d like to be a 
missionary.” 

A missionary!” shrieked Lorraine, who had 
slipped in quietly, a few moments before; ” and be 
eaten up by those horrid cannibal things! You 
shan’t ! I won’t let you! ” 

” Run a boarding-school, if you ’re dying for 
missionary-work,” suggested Judith dryly. ” It ’s 
the broadest field I know.” 

” Thank you. I don’t aspire to be a home mis- 
sionary. I mean I ’d like to do something where 
I ’d have a good many people under me. I do 
love to make plans and schedules and such things.” 

” Hester, you do really love responsibility, don’t 
you ? ” asked Winifred, rather wonderingly. ” I 
envy you.” 

“Yes, I suppose I do,” nodded Hester, “ if 
wanting to make things go as I think they should, 
is liking responsibility. It ’s delightful to make 
people do as one likes, when they don’t know it. 
I mean, I like to make them want to do it. I ’d 
just love to draw up a railroad time-table.” 

“ Perhaps you ’d change your tune, if you had to 
do one,” said Virginia. 


155 


Boarding-School Days. 

Oh, I 've been brought up on schedules,” re- 
turned Hester, for she was the daughter of a railroad 
president, who had not come to his place by acci- 
dent. 

“You manage us all, my beauty,” said Virginia, 
stooping and giving their leader a Scotch kiss. 
” And the most debasing thing about your reign is 
that we all like it.” 

Hester flushed a little. 

“Yet, I think,” she began honestly, “ that the 
desire to manage and plan is such an unpleasant 
quality. I hate it in other people. I don’t see 
why I have it. I wish people would n’t always let 
me manage. Truly and honestly, girls, I hate to 
be ‘ bossy ’ as Selma Hancock called me the other 
day,” with a little touch of wistfulness. 

“ So long as you have the head you have we ’ll 
have to sacrifice both ourselves and your best moral 
welfare,” said Judith judicially. “ Sorry, my dear, 
but I suggest you take your vacations to study 
meekness of heart in.” 

“ Curb your sarcasms,” said Hester good na- 
turedly. “I’m meek enough this morning. Don’t 
stir me up. Miss Douglas ! What do you suppose 
we ’ll be doing twenty years hence ? ” 

“ Somebody says,” remarked Winifred, “ that 
it ’s what we ’re going to do that makes life worth 
living.” 


A Nest of Girls. 


156 

‘‘What a nice man!” exclaimed Virginia, still 
walking up and down. ‘‘ Most people tell us to do 
noble things, not dream them all day long. Now I 
can dream of my trillionaire and my palace without 
feeling conscience stricken.” 

“ Virginia Henderson! I do get so out of pa- 
tience with you!” cried Hester. ‘‘ If I did n’t 
know better, I would think you did n’t have an 
idea in your head but dress and nonsense like the 
‘ Sin-nics.’ ” 

‘‘ Mrs. Conway says I need adversity to bring me 
out,” said Virginia calmly. ‘‘ I told her I really 
preferred to stay in, then.” 

‘‘How did you dare!” exclaimed Harvey. 
‘‘ What did she say ? ’ 

‘‘ That she was glad I would n’t have my choice. 
She further remarked, quite unnecessarily, that a 
life of frivolity would n’t content me, although I 
meekly assured her it would. She said that I was 
a character that would surely meet trouble, and she 
wanted me to be prepared to meet it bravely when 
it comes. ” Virginia finished evenly, without change 
of tone. 

‘‘ Did she frighten you ? ” asked Hester, breaking 
the momentary silence. 

‘‘ Not a bit,” answered Virginia cheerily . ‘‘I’m 
very tough and I ’ll be as merry as a grig as long as 
I can — and afterwards too, perhaps. Oh, Mrs. 


Boarding-School Days. 157 

Conway knew she would n’t frighten me, else she 
would n’t have said it.” 

Virginia stood still and leaned against the win- 
dow-frame as she spoke, her tawny head catching 
beautiful lights from the sun. There was an ex- 
pression in her hazel eyes that was seldom there. 
Winifred looked at her lovingly, knowing very well 
what Mrs. Conway meant and knowing, too, the 
ring of the true metal beneath the surface. The 
frivolity, bequeathed and fostered by a frivolous 
mother, was only skin-deep, after all. With all the 
surface traits of Maud Perry, she never for a mo- 
ment found the smallest pleasure in the society of 
that set, and it was significant that the cleverest 
girls in school were her warm friends. But most 
natures create their own discipline, and Virginia 
would surely find hers ; if in no other way, in the 
very fulfilment of her ambitions, for Mrs. Conway 
was entirely right ; the life of a society woman would 
never satisfy her for long. But she was destined to 
a far different lot. 

” See Harvey sitting here and looking unutterable 
things,” exclaimed Margaret, turning suddenly to 
her. ” Speak up, my Southern maid, and tell us 
your desires.” 

“You Northern girls are so odd,” smiled Harvey 
with her little shrug. “ I never knew girls planned 
out their lives in this way. My brothers would. 


158 


A Nest of Girls. 


but — what could / do but marry and have a house 
of my own ? I have never thought of anything else. 
My three older sisters came North to school and 
when they went home they went out in society and 
married almost directly, and they all live near us. 
But you all seem to be thinking always of some- 
thing to do.'' 

“ As Virginia says,*' announced Judith, twisting 
her wide mouth around whimsically, for Harvey was 
emphatically a dreamer, “ we are constantly im- 
plored to ' do noble things, not dream them all day 
long.’ ” The girls would tease Harvey sometimes, 
for she loved to drift along in reveries of a beauti- 
ful world, full of noble deeds of which she was 
always heroine, and of splendid acts of self-sacri- 
fice that brought the applause of all. But doing 
plain, every-day duty was so different — and so en- 
tirely uninteresting. 

** And Lorraine here has n’t said one word all this 
time,” said Winifred. Lorraine was sitting, tailor- 
fashion, on the foot of the bed, looking somewhat 
bored. “ What is your ambition, Lorraine ? ” 

“ Ambition ? I ? What in the world could I do 
with an ambition?” she said, bewilderedly, and 
they all laughed. 

” Lorraine is to live with me and be my baby 
always,” said Hester, stretching her hand up to 
Lorraine, who caught and kissed it. 



STANDING BY THE WINDOW IN DEEP THOUGHT. Page I^g. 


. . k I 



.♦■I^ iv 

.'V :' 

Bavi ■ •'■■■.- 'T . . ■ ■' 





i 


• ■* t 


'•^ 4 


* « 






f, 





ir 

^#.111,4 H, 

I* . ^ 

C»i 

* 

•h 


> < 


I “ 


v^:/ 


« "■ * ;-<“ ■ '-i-. V 

■■ ■?.# 

■ '■•i^ ' 

. -r ,*♦ ^'/r,f. ,; . 

E^' ;* *'V^ * ’^ • - - 

;;A: :-j • - 

... ., ,* j .... 

'■ ' ‘ .•■, 1 '*'^ ^ 

L m. . ^ • 


■Hi? , W I 

> 4 '>> r-'' 




'V 


' ■■* . , 1 . ^ ■ ■m -■*^ ’■ 

ft 

* *• * iSi ;5k •“ ‘’v-^ 

|Kg » 1*^ ■ 7^ 






'k 'Any 

n . - • ’ ^ ' 

I k** ' V r 
■ _ , . - 
‘-S -’i- >*# 0 .. ' '" . 

^ ^ ^ r* . 

*?\w. \ ^ 



Boarding-School Days. 


159 


“ Of course, I must live with you,** she an- 
swered, as if there was nothing further to be 
said. 

“ I *11 put you all down in my note-book and will 
engage to keep track of you all for at least ten years. 
You ought to be all well started in life by that 
time.’* Winifred was still young enough to have 
ten years hence seem a long time ahead. 

“ I vote that we all write to Miss Douglas once a 
year,** began Margaret, when a chorus interrupted 
her. 

“ Once 2 , year ? ** 

I was meditating writing once a day at least,** 
observed Judith grinning. 

Be still, all of you. I vote we write Miss Doug- 
las officially, and inform her how we are and what 
we are doing and let her record our letters in that 
book of hers.*’ 

Agreed!” cried one and all, as the lunch bell 
rang. 

After luncheon Hester, on going into Valentine’s 
room, found her standing by the window in deep 
thought, nor did she move as Hester entered after 
knocking. 

‘'What is the matter, cherief asked Hester, 
putting her fingers lightly over her eyes. 

“ Hester! how you startled me. I did n’t hear 
you.** 


i6o A Nest of Girls. 

“ Evidently not. What an abstracted pair of 
eyes you have. Did n’t you eat enough lunch ? ” 

“ Certainly, goosie. I was thinking. Hester, is 
meddling ever a duty ? ” 

“ Meddling ? I can’t imagine it. Why ?’' 

** Oh, nothing — only — people never heed what I 
say, anyway,” she added, half aloud. 

“ What is the matter ?” repeated Hester. 

“ Nothing. Oh, nothing at all. None of my 
affair,” answered Valentine, suddenly turning 
around with decision. “ Only some nonsense of 
Maud Perry’s, I guess. Hester, I can’t think of 
the second head of that Literature criticism. Do 
you remember ? ” 

But after Hester had gone, Valentine stood still 
by her bureau thinking. 

“ Shall I tell the girls ? Ought I ? Still, I am 
not really certain. Eleanor did n’t mean to let it 
out and she thought I did n’t notice. Oh, I can’t 
make up my mind to the responsibility of telling ! 
Why was n’t it Hester who found it out! She 
would have known what to do and would n’t have 
minded doing it if it was to walk up to a cannon’s 
mouth. Shall I tell her ? She and Judith already 
suspect that mischief ’s up. 

“ No, I won’t interfere. They ’ll be sure to find 
out sooner or later and they ’ll stop it then. They 
have more influence with the girls than I have, any- 


Boarding-School Days. i6i 

way,” and Valentine resolutely took up a book. 
She hated responsibility of any kind and while con- 
scientious to a degree herself she rarely commented 
on what others did. Perhaps she was not enough 
interested. 

“ I 'm homesick to-day, I guess,” she observed 
to Margaret Ward, as they went down the hall to- 
gether at dinner-time. Mrs. Conway, who was 
coming out of one of the rooms, turned to smile at 
her. 

“ I would n’t be homesick so near Christmas 
time,” she said gayly, putting her hand on Valen- 
tine’s shoulder. “ Save it all up till you come 
back.” 

Valentine smiled up at her, but Mrs. Conway 
caught the little troubled look in her eyes. 

Anything really wrong, dear ? ” she stopped to 
say. '‘Bad news?” 

“ Nothing, thank you,” answered Valentine, 
turning away her head. “ People must get home- 
sick sometimes, I suppose, Mrs. Conway ? ” 

“ Something is wrong,” commented Mrs. Con- 
way, mentally. ” Possibly only a misunderstand- 
ing with some of her friends.” 

zx 


CHAPTER X. 


THE ‘‘SIN-NICS/* 

C HRISTMAS was at hand, and the scattering 
was beginning. 

“ We are like a dandelion ball,” was Virginia’s 
suggestion. ‘‘ We are all here — then puff! goes 
the locomotive, and we ’re mostly all over.” 

Mrs. Henry invited Harvey Sherwood to spend 
the holidays with Katharine, but the rest of the 
girls separated. 

All too short seemed those jolly three weeks at 
home, yet all the girls were more than eager to see 
each other again after New Year’s. Then in a day 
or two everything settled down and it seemed as if 
they had never been away. 

Yet before very long, it was plain to watchful 
eyes that something was wrong in school. J ust what 
it was at first no one could say. Mrs. Conway, 
always as quickly sensitive as a barometer to the 
changes in the school atmosphere, felt it immedi- 
ately and kept her eyes open. It was something 
below the surface, for it did not show itself imme- 
diately in any open violation of rules or appearance 
of insubordination. That came a little later. 


162 


163 


Boarding-School Days. 

Mrs. Conway came one day to Winifred’s room. 
After she had finished the matter that had brought 
her there she stopped to add : 

I have happened to hear several of the girls 
say lately that they were homesick. Have you 
noticed anything wrong ? I discovered long ago 
that if there is much homesickness there is generally 
some conscience mixed up with it.” 

“ I do believe that is true,” said Winifred, with 
an amused glance backward at her own experience. 
“ As a rule, anyway. I wonder — ” she stopped, 
trying to piece together fragments of conversations 
that had floated to her ears. 

I really have no idea what it is,” she said, after 
a moment. “ And I rather suspect, though I do 
not know, that Romelia Dransfield is at the bottom 
of it — and Maud Perry, probably. Romelia has 
been much with that set of late.” 

“ That is my opinion. Let us trust that nothing 
is really wrong, though I certainly do not like this 
atmosphere. Yet the majority of the girls are 
studying well. The reports are rather unusually 
good from many of them.” 

” I fancy that whatever it is that is going on,” 
said Winifred thoughtfully, ” that it may be some- 
thing in which few are really concerned, but that 
many know. Some of the girls have such a bel- 
ligerent air. Hester Cameron has looked lately as 


164 


A Nest of Girls. 


if she had the cares of a kingdom on her shoulders. 
Valentine is always saying she is homesick.” 

Mrs. Conway’s face looked much troubled. 

“ I can’t make up my mind that anything is 
wrong with that set,” she said musingly; “ yet 
within three days several different hints have come 
to me that I am trusting them too far.” 

“ Mrs. Conway,” cried Winifred warmly, “ I am 
sure you could not do that. I know every one of 
those girls well, and I am sure they are honorable.” 

Mrs. Conway was silent a moment. She did not 
wish to say that only a few days before a chance 
caller had remarked, on seeing Virginia pass the 
door on her way to a music lesson, that she had 
seen that girl, once, standing on the corner of Harri- 
son Street with a Mr. Trent, whom she knew by 
sight, evidently waiting for a car. She was sure it 
was the same girl, for she had noticed her beautiful 
tawny hair particularly. 

I only let those girls go out alone whom I can 
trust,” Mrs. Conway had said quietly to her caller. 
But further, only yesterday, in going through the 
upper corridor in search of a girl she wanted to see, 
she had heard Romelia’s voice from her own room, 
raised in great and unwonted excitement, saying 
distinctly : 

“ I guess I can bribe as well as you, Hester 
Cameron.” 


Boarding-School Days. 165 

And two minutes later, in returning, she had 
heard Romelia again. 

“ Only Mrs. Conway’s little pet girls can stand 
on street corners with students as long as they 
like.” 

But she never condemned on suspicion, and had 
resolved to say nothing for the present, beyond 
warning her teachers to be on the alert. 

Miss Douglas, surprised at her silence, watched 
her anxiously. 

You don’t know anything really wrong ? ” she 
ventured, after a moment. “ Oh, Mrs. Conway! I 
know them so well ! They are trustworthy ! ” 

“ I am trusting them. I have never seen any- 
thing in Hester but transparent honesty and straight- 
forwardness. Yes, I must have more proof, before 
I distrust her. That set of girls have earned my 
trust and they shall have it.” 

“ I don’t trust Romelia Dransfield,” said Wini- 
fred, after a pause, watching Mrs. Conway, as she 
stood, lost in a most unusual fit of abstraction, “ yet 
I scarcely know why. I can never put my finger on 
anything she does.” 

She is so smooth,” mused Mrs. Conway. “ She 
studies very well, too. I have been surprised to 
see that Maud and Selma Hancock and those girls 
have taken her up as they have.” 

** I do believe they make use of her in some way,” 


A Nest of Girls. 


1 66 

said Winifred; “ most of the other girls hate her 
and call her that little ‘ snake in the grass/ but they 
never have any reason to give and I don’t believe 
they know anything definitely. Has she ever been 
found doing anything out of the way ? She ap- 
parently never breaks a rule.” 

“ Only her absurd little feast last fall. In a cer- 
tain way, I have really trusted her. Perhaps be- 
cause she is so very plain and unattractive, poor 
child. You know she goes to see the doctor twice a 
week. Several times, lately, she has been alone, for 
it is so short a distance and dear old Dr. Daniells, 
of course, is perfectly safe to trust her with. You 
know last week, when Miss Hastings had that little 
attack of bronchitis, we were rather short-handed. 
If she was a girl like Maud, pretty and taking, I 
would not think of letting her go alone ; but surely 
no one would ever look twice at poor Romelia. 
Well, it will come to the surface soon, I ’m sure. I 
am ready for it.” 

It was nearer the surface than they thought. As 
Mrs. Conway passed down the hall. Miss Roberts 
darted out at her excitedly. 

“ Please come in here for a moment,” she said, 
hurriedly. “ I want to show you something.” 

Mrs. Conway stepped inside her room and took 
the paper that Miss Roberts almost thrust at her. 
She looked at it mechanically. It was a letter 


Boarding-School Days. 167 

addressed to Mr. Churchill in Hester’s bold writing. 
The flap was ungummed. 

“ That letter fell out of Katharine Henry’s book 
in the dressing-room. I myself saw Hester give it 
to her. Katharine did not know she had lost it. I 
have been suspicious of those girls for some time.” 

Mrs. Conway, feeling sick at heart, read the letter. 

“ My dear Mr. Churchill: 

“You have been so very kind that we venture to 
ask you if you can help any further with any sug- 
gestions concerning Mr. S. Men understand each 
other so well that you may tell us of something that 
will be effectual. You understand to what I am 
alluding. Our greatest fear is that Mrs. Conway 
may find out, and you know we must avoid that in 
any way possible. 

“ Sincerely yours, 

“ Hester Cameron.” 

Miss Roberts watched Mrs. Conway’s face eagerly, 
but it was perfectly expressionless. “ Thank you,” 
she said evenly. “ Will you please say nothing 
whatever to any one about this ? I will attend to 
it.” 

“ But that is not all,” persisted Miss Roberts. 
“ I have felt sure you are trusting those girls too 
far. I mean — ” she added, hastily, as Mrs. Con- 
way’s lips took an unmistakeable line, “ that they 
are deceiving you.” 


A Nest of Girls. 


1 68 


“ What is there further?” asked Mrs. Conway 
quietly. The girls have never given me the 
smallest reason for doubting them.” 

“ Just this,” and Miss Roberts poured out the 
story of seeing Virginia on the street corner with a 
young man, one late afternoon. 

Her chief listened impassively. 

‘‘It is a serious thing,” she said, when Miss 
Roberts finished. “ And you have known this all 
the time ? Surely it was not right to leave me in 
ignorance.” 

‘‘ I thought I would watch a while. Indeed, I 
intended to tell at first. But you are so lenient 
with the girls ” 

‘‘ Pardon me. Miss Roberts. My management is 
not the thing under discussion.” 

‘‘ Oh, please forgive me,” cried Miss Roberts in- 
stantly, much conscience-stricken. ‘‘ I only meant 
— ” she hesitated. She had not much quickness of 
speech, and, while she was sincerely sorry to have 
been betrayed into a criticism, she had really meant 
it. She heartily admired Mrs. Conway for every- 
thing but her ‘‘ laxness.” 

‘‘ Miss Roberts,” the other said gravely, “ surely 
you are aware that what my teachers know, I should 
know. Your one and only duty was to report that 
circumstance to me as soon as practicable. It is 
entirely possible that events made the whole thing 


169 


Boarding-School Days. 

quite harmless, and the matter could have been 
easily investigated at the time; it is also possible 
that there may be serious wrong. I am the only 
judge of what course is to be pursued, at any rate. 
Permit me to add that you are an invaluable teacher 
in Mathematics, but the lore of girl-nature is not 
wholly yours.” She smiled a little as she spoke, 
but Miss Roberts keenly felt the rebuke. 

” As for this latter fact, it was already in my pos- 
session, as it chanced. Frankly, my impression is 
that there zs something much amiss in school, but I 
think it is in other directions than the one your sus- 
picions have taken. At the same time, I do not in 
the least understand this note,” tapping Hester’s 
letter which she was still holding. ” Nevertheless, 
after three years’ experience with Hester Cameron, 
since her conduct has been irreproachable in point 
of straightforward honesty, it is only fair that I do 
not suspect her, even in my thoughts, till I give her 
a chance to explain.” She paused a moment, then 
added kindly, ” Do not think that I do not feel that 
you have acted conscientiously, although with mis- 
taken judgment, and you must try to think that 
lenity on my part is not always lack of discipline.” 
She smiled with a look that went to Miss Roberts’s 
heart, and was gone. 

Quietly as she had spoken, Mrs. Conway left the 
room in a state of shocked and puzzled wonderment. 


170 


A Nest of Girls. 


Whatever had been the cause of Virginians escapade, 
why had she not come to her ? She had often 
enough before confessed other things, which no one 
would have known. What could Hester’s enigmati- 
cal note mean ? It implied past correspondence of 
some description, some connivance somewhere. 
Hester, who had always been the soul of honor! 
What must she herself be kept from knowing at any 
cost ? Who was “ Mr. S. ? ” Miss Douglas had 
said that Hester had looked as if the cares of state 
rested on her shoulders. Was it conscience and not 
care ? 

That night Mrs. Conway did not come down to 
dinner. 

It had not been long after the holidays before the 
older girls began to feel, with their teachers, that 
there was some under current of mischief, and soon 
the “ Merry Chanters,” who as the leading set felt 
themselves in a way responsible for good order, 
undertook to find out what was wrong. That the 
mainspring of trouble lay with the Sin-nics ” it 
was not hard to fathom, but just what the mischief 
was, baffled them. Eleanor Scott was much with 
Maud Perry and saw very little of the ” Merry 
Chanters ” after vacation, for Judith had given her 
the promised “ dressing down,” a process which 
Eleanor deeply resented, not unnaturally, and even 


Boarding-School Days. 171 

Hester could get nothing but injured innocence out 
of her. Valentine, distracted between her real fond- 
ness for her roommate, her sympathy for her own 
circle, and scorn of the manners and actions of the 
Sin-nics,” kept a troubled silence, hesitating to 
tell what had incidentally come to her knowledge 
before Christmas, for dread of involving Eleanor. 
She hoped desperately that the matter would 
right itself, or that the girls concerned would turn 
over a new leaf. Valentine’s inclination was always 
to shirk a fight, even if it were on the side of right. 
This arose partly from mere dislike of responsibility 
and partly from real lack of self-confidence. She 
never felt that anything she said had any influence 
and she never guessed that she might have pre- 
vented Eleanor from gradually slipping into the 
wrong set by vigorous, out-spoken disapproval of 
what she did, for Eleanor loved Valentine and was 
really an easily influenced girl. Judith’s sarcasms 
on the “ Sin-nics ” only angered her and what she 
had begun for sheer mischief and love of teasing, 
she kept up from mere contrariness. Judith’s satiri- 
cal tongue and Valentine’s silence over what Eleanor 
knew she really disapproved of, were responsible for 
much. “ The “ Sin-nics ” were undeniably jolly 
and amusing and so, sore and angry with the other 
girls, who, she thought, had cast her off too easily, 
she gradually drifted entirely into the other circle 


172 


A Nest of Girls. 


and, though her better self rebelled, into their mis- 
chief as well. 

At last Katharine Henry, from her vantage ground 
of outsider, brought to the “ Merry Chanters " a 
tale of accusations and proofs which she had been 
told by Jack Churchill. 

The girls, Hester, Judith, Margaret, and Virginia, 
in a state of flaming indignation, rose in their might 
and swooped down on the Sin-nics ” as the As- 
syrians came down of old. Those belonging to that 
set chanced to be gathered in Maud’s room, but 
Eleanor was not among them. At first, they were 
all innocence. 

“ This is perfectly outrageous ! ” Hester cried 
furiously. Maud Perry, you ’re a disgrace to 
the school, and so are you, Florence Elmer and 
Romelia Dransfield and Selma Hancock. All that 
cigarette smoking was bad enough, and all the 
rest of it, but this is unbearable and we won’t 
stand it ! ” 

Hester’s cheeks were scarlet and her eyes shot 
violet fire. 

“ Well, really, Hester, you ’re a nice one to talk, 
but every one knows that you are not such a saint as 
you would like to make out,” returned Maud, with 
a disagreeable sneer on her pretty face. “You 
may be down on our smoking cigarettes but every 
one knows you do it yourself in your own room. 


Boarding-School Days. 1 73 

I 've seen cigarette labels myself in your scrap- 
basket.” 

Hester gasped. 

” What an outrageous lie!” she burst out, sur- 
prised into school-girl frankness in her rage. '‘You 
know very well Romelia Dransfield put those there 
herself, and sent you in directly after.” 

“I did n’t!” cried Romelia distractedly. But 
Hester rushed on without heeding her. 

“ And now this performance of yours last Satur- 
day and all your trickery, forging notes and I don’t 
know what all, and getting permissions to go out 
with friends and starting off to a base-ball game, 
where you were known and recognized as St. Ursula 
girls, and attracted attention by your behavior. 
Going alone with those students, too, which you 
know no girl in town does! Giving us a pretty 
name everywhere ! Oh, I wish Mrs. Conway would 
expel you all ! ” 

“ Perhaps she would have something to say to 
pretty pets who can stand on street corners after 
dark with students, way on the other side of town in 
very queer places,” retorted Maud, angrily. “ Keep 
your own set in order before you come to mine.” 

” I don’t know what you mean and I don’t care,” 
began Hester, when a babel of voices broke out ac- 
cusing and defending. Virginia stood struck dumb, 
for a moment, then began eagerly explaining, in all 


174 


A Nest of Girls. 


the hubbub, to Hester, who did not hear. Presently 
Hester’s voice, which excitement made as clear as 
a bell, extricated itself. 

“You might as well listen to me, Romelia Drans- 
field, for I know all about your deceit, too.’’ 

“ My deceit ? ’’ blustered Romelia. “ I ’d have 
you know that I ’m not going to sit here and have 
false accusations fired at my head.’’ 

“No danger of their being false,” interposed 
Judith scornfully. “ Draw a bow at almost any- 
thing and we ’d hit you.” 

And then the babel of voices broke out again, 
Hester accusing, Judith giving an added sting now 
and then, the others questioning and asserting. 

These were the facts. 

Romelia Dransfield had been found to be involved 
in a plot of many weeks standing. It seemed that 
she had distant relatives in the city and when she 
came to school she had brought a letter to Mrs. 
Conway from her father, asking that she might be 
allowed occasional intercourse with them, in what- 
ever way the rules of the school permitted. Also 
that the son, who was a student in college, might 
sometimes be permitted to call, on the school re- 
ception night. Soon after her arrival, Romelia had 
been invited to dine there one Saturday night, and 
had met on that occasion a student friend of her 
cousin. Romelia had amused them by her doleful 


175 


Boarding-School Days. 

tales of the terribly strict life at St. Ursula’s, and 
how the girls scarcely dared to say their souls were 
their own, and various other romances. Then she 
lamented that she could not ask them both to call 
on her, for she missed society so much, and they 
always said at home that “ Romie must have her 
friends about her, or she would be so unhappy.” 

Of course the young men condoled with her, and 
amused themselves with all manner of uncompli- 
mentary speeches about the “ Dragon ” and com- 
pared Romelia to the enchanted princess in a tower 
and Romelia was wildly happy. 

“ Think how I envy you, Trainor,” said the 
friend Spaulding, by name, at last; “ you can 
have access to this Castle of the Ogre at any time. 
Could n’t I disguise myself as you, sometimes, and 
go in your stead ? ” 

Romelia caught at the suggestion eagerly. 

“ Do come,” she urged. ” Come instead of 
George. Just send in his card instead of yours, 
and I ’ll introduce you as my cousin and nobody 
will know the difference. He has never been yet, 
and Mrs. Conway does n’t know him by sight. 
You would n’t mind, would you, George ? I could 
see you here, you know,” with a fascinating smile 
that nearly sent the young men into convulsions of 
laughter. 

Now it happened that while there was no harm in 


176 


A Nest of Girls. 


Romelia’s cousin, beyond being hopelessly common- 
place, as Mrs. Conway had found on inquiry, before 
giving the permission to call, the friend was objec- 
tionable in every way. The girls could receive such 
friends as had permission to call, in the school parlor 
on the second and last Fridays of every month. 
One or two teachers were always in charge, of 
course, and Mrs. Conway herself was often there. 
The card of the visitor was always brought to the 
teacher in charge before it was sent up. 

So the scheme was hatched and so carried out, 
but Romelia, with a curious secretiveness that char- 
acterized her at times, told no one. Indeed, at that 
time there was no one she knew well enough to tell. 
Later, when she had succeeded in tacking herself to 
the “ Sin-nics,” she gloated over the sense of power 
that her secret gave her. They were ready for any 
“ fun ” and they soon found that Romelia’s 
“ cousin,” as they all thought him, was a most de- 
lightful ally. They began to meet him on the 
street, at church, everywhere they went, though of 
course he could not speak to them. Then Romelia 
planned a little expedition for one Saturday after- 
noon, when by much contrivance they all got various 
permissions to visit friends and left them early, 
meeting Mr. Spaulding, and taking a walk. So it 
went on, while they constantly grew bolder. It 
was one of these expeditions that Eleanor had been 


177 


Boarding-School Days. 

enticed to join, and that Valentine had accidentally 
discovered before Christmas. It was seldom that 
more than two girls, or at most, three, attempted 
to get out at one time, and it was not impossible to 
manage. In all Mrs. Conway’s experience, just 
this had never happened before. 

At last it chanced that Jack Churchill on one oc- 
casion heard young Spaulding say carelessly that 
he was a privileged character at St. Ursula’s, and 
went there as he pleased ; then he spoke of some of 
the girls in a way that made Jack, though he did 
not know the ones referred to, simply furious, know- 
ing as he did, Mr. Spaulding’s reputation. He 
asked Katharine if she knew whom he called on at 
St. Ursula’s and wondered why Mrs. Conway, par- 
ticular as she was in granting calling-permissions, 
had ever allowed him entrance. Katharine did not 
know, but asked her friends, mentioning that Jack 
had said he would not let him exchange a syllable 
with her, Katharine. For the honor of their names, 
the ‘‘ Merry Chanters ” undertook to find out, but 
after much careful inquiry, not a girl in school knew 
anything about Mr. Spaulding. Then Virginia got 
sight of the visiting list on some pretext and his 
name was not there. The outcome was duly re- 
ported to Mr. Churchill through Katharine, who in 
his turn undertook to find out from the outside, if 

possible. He was not long in discovering, for the 
12 


178 


A Nest of Girls. 


story was current, as a good joke, among Mr. 
Spaulding’s friends, that the young man called at 
St. Ursula’s under an assumed name, and then it was 
known in what name, and on whom. 

This was the story, or some of it, that Hester and 
the rest poured out on the astonished ears of Maud 
and her friends. 

“ And not only that, Romelia Dransfield,” fin- 
ished Hester, furiously, “ but when you were 
trusted to go alone to the doctor’s, you deceived 
Mrs. Conway and arranged to meet that — that fel- 
low, and once, at least, you never went near the 
doctor’s office, for you were watched! ” 

“ And who set me the example in all this, but 
one of your own immaculate set ? ” said Romelia, 
with the dull red flush under her thick white skin, 
that always marked her excitement. “ It was I, 
myself, who saw Virginia Henderson, who stands 
up there looking as pious as you please, standing 
on a street corner way down on Harrison Street at 
six o’clock one night last fall, with a fine young 
man, when I happen to know that she only had 
permission to go to Katharine Henry’s, as I took 
pains to find out. But, oh, dear me! Mrs. Con- 
way’s sweet pets may do as they like, only we poor 
little things are to be expelled for the least little 
fun!” 

** You are too idiotic to live,” broke in Judith 


Boarding-School Days. 1 79 

grimly. “ Supposing that that was all true. How 
do you know what Mrs. Conway may have said to 
Virginia about it ? Do you run this school ? ” 

No, but you think you do,” retorted Romelia 
coolly, with some truth from her point of view. 

Yes, and we seniors mean to run it, if putting 
a stop to this disgraceful behavior is running it,” 
flashed Hester. 

“ Run tell Mrs. Conway, do dear,” begged Selma 
sneeringly. “ I did not know before of Romelia’s 
little game, but on my word, I think it ’s a good 
one. How did you ever think of it, Romie ? ” 

“ Oh, I know how to get fun out of life,” said 
Romelia, bridling and smiling consciously. “That ’s 
what they always say at home. ‘ Trust Romie! ’ ” 
“ You ’re a deep one,” cried Florence Elmer ad- 
miringly. “ The very idea of your doing that, all 
this fall, and taking us all in. What a nuisance the 
others got on to it,” she added insolently, “ for 
now they ’ll run and tell.” 

“ Tell ! ” repeated Hester, with curling lip. “ Do 
you think we ’re the telltales you ’d be under the 
same circumstances ? I ’ve not the slightest inten- 
tion of telling Mrs. Conway but I do intend that 
you shall stop making the girls of St. Ursula’s a 
laughing-stock among the students — or worse.” 

“ What do you mean to do. Miss High-and- 
Mighty ? ” asked Maud pertly. 


i8o 


A Nest of Girls. 


** That 's my concern. Yours is to stop your 
present doings or take the consequences. All this 
low flirting, and note-writing, and getting the day- 
scholars to act as go-between, and palmed-off callers, 
can stop, as well as all the rest of it, which you 
know much better than we do.” 

“ How long will Miss Goody-Goody give us for 
repentance and reflection? ” asked Selma, with mock 
anxiety. I am so struck with Romelia’s brilliancy 
that it will take me a little time to repent of my sins 
— of omission. Oh, you sly one ! ” 

“ Your time for reflection is here and now,” said 
Hester, her young face stern with indignation. 
“ As president of the Senior Class and therefore 
head girl of the school, it is my business to see 
that we are not disgraced by such as you.” 

“ Give it all up, Maud,” advised Virginia. ** You 
are four and we are thirty, strong. Every other 
girl in school is against you.” 

“We are five, may it please your majesty. Don’t 
forget we are recruited from your own immaculate 
ranks,” sneered Maud, with a sweeping courtesy. 
“You may be pleased to know that Eleanor Scott 
is a ‘ Sin-nic ’ equal to any.” 

“You can leave Eleanor Scott out of the ques- 
tion,” returned Hester peremptorily. 

“ It ’s all very well, your taking this high-and- 
mighty stand,” whined Romelia, “ but of course. 


Boarding-School Days. i8i 

sooner or later, you '11 tell, or set Mrs. Conway on 
the track somehow. It ’s been done before,” with 
a malignant glance at Judith. 

“You cowardly little sneak!” blazed Judith. 
Then she checked herself. 

“ How could I expect you to remember that other 
people have any sense of honor ? You have no 
imagination,” she added with her satirical twist of 
her wide mouth, that always gave a sneer double 
venom. 

Hester broke the angry pause that followed. 
“You are fairly warned, now,” she said sternly. 
“ Of course you will try to outwit us at every turn, 
but you won’t succeed often. Once for all, under- 
stand that we girls of St. Ursula’s are ladies and not 
hoodlums, and we mean to maintain our honor.” 
Then Hester swept her force from the room. 


CHAPTER XL 


THE CAMPAIGN OF HESTER. 

A BREATHLESS, excited set of girls faced one 
another when they were fairly within the 
shelter of Judith’s room, where Harvey, Lorraine, 
and Valentine awaited the result. Hester flung 
herself on the bed; Judith, who never lounged, sat 
sidewise on a chair, with her arms folded across the 
back; Margaret and Lorraine hovered near Hester, 
Lorraine finally sitting on the floor beside her, while 
Margaret sat down on the bed at her feet ; Harvey 
remained in the window-seat; Valentine Clifford sat 
in a low rocking-chair, leaning forward, with her 
chin supported on her hands. 

“ I wonder,” sighed Hester, anxiously, at last, 
when the story had been told, “ if they care the 
least bit, or whether I did them only harm by going 
at them hammer and tongs. I was so furiously 
angry ! ” 

“ Console yourself, my dear; it would n’t have 
made any difference if you had gone at them with 
feather-beds,” comforted Virginia, “ but we have 
the bulge on them now. They can’t do much. 


Boarding-School Days. 183 

when they know we are up to their tricks. How 
about this what ’s-his-name, — Romelia’s young 
man.” 

I Ve thought that out,” said Hester slowly. 

I will tell Brenda to bring me his card the next 
time he calls and I will see him myself and tell him 
it is known he is coming under a false name, and 
that his calls have got to stop — ” too much excited 
to care for elegance of language. 

” Then, if he comes again, off goes his head! ” 
cried Virginia, waving an imaginary hatchet. 

” Don’t joke, Virginia,” begged Hester. ” Isn’t 
that the best way, girls ? It must stop. Katharine 
said that Mr. Churchill said that that creature said 
such horridly familiar things about us all. I saw 
him once, thinking him, of course, Romelia’s cousin. 
He sat near me one night when Miss Parker and 
her father were calling on me. He ’s so horrid- 
looking and he stares so. ’ ’ 

” You know Mrs. Conway won’t let any young 
man call oftener than once a month,” said Margaret. 

^ ” Well, I was in the hall the other day and I heard 
her ask Romelia if he had not come much oftener 
than that, and Romelia answered in her smooth way 
that he had just dropped in sometimes when he was 
not intending to call, just to leave a message from 
his ‘ mother ’ and did not stay but a moment.” 

” What a harp that girl is! ” murmured Virginia. 


184 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Suppose he does not pay any attention to you 
but keeps on coming/’ suggested Harvey. 

“ If he does n’t — why, then — ” began Hester, 
rather at a loss. 

“ Tell Mrs. Conway ? ” asked Margaret. 

No. Not if I can help it. Men always say that 
girls have no sense of honor and always tell things, 
though it ’s abominably untrue. And if we can’t 
keep order ourselves, we ’d better retire.” 

” But,” urged Margaret, rather hesitatingly, 
” don’t you think Mrs. Conway has a right to 
know ? It ’s her school, after all, and she may want 
to manage things her own way.” 

” I agree with Margaret,” said Valentine, most 
unexpectedly. 

” Why in the world did n’t you tell her yourself, 
then. Miss Clifford, may I ask?” said Judith 
sharply. ” You knew this long before the rest of 
us did, and if you had told us then, it would never 
have gone so far.” 

I know,” said Valentine miserably; ” but I 
could nt tell you. I do hate a fuss so.” 

“ And a pretty fuss we ’re all in now, ma’am. If 
you ’d faced the music before Christmas, when you 
first knew of Eleanor’s going off that time, and had 
told us, we would have been on our guard and 
might have stopped it. They ’ve just gone on from 
one thing to another.” 


Boarding-School Days. 185 

Judith’s thin, freckled face was set and grave. 
These young things felt keenly their responsibility 
toward their school, and the maintenance of their 
honor, and, with the impetuosity of the teens, 
thought that they only could uphold it. 

The tears sprang to Valentine’s eyes and she 
flushed painfully. 

‘‘ Oh, girls, don’t ! I know I am terribly to blame 
for not doing something to stop this long ago, when 
I first knew it, but I was always hoping that some- 
thing would happen or that Mrs. Conway would 
find it out herself, and that I need not be mixed up 
in it. And then I don’t know that Eleanor would 
have stopped for me, anyway. You girls don’t 
mind a fuss as much as I do, but I was to blame — 
only don’t blame me any more ! ” 

“ Never mind, Val,” said Hester softening. “ To 
be sure, I know you have much more influence with 
Eleanor than you realize, but perhaps the rest of it 
would have come just the same if we had known. 
But, my dearie, I don’t really think that any of us 
likes a ‘ fuss ’ any better than you do.” 

Valentine looked skeptical. Margaret returned 
to her first position. 

“ Honestly, don’t you think we should tell Mrs. 
Conway ? ” 

“ Not unless we ’re absolutely driven to it,” an- 
swered Hester, with the unquestioning confidence 


A Nest of Girls. 


1 86 

of youth in its own powers. “ If Mr. Spaulding 
really refuses to stop coming I ’ll — I ’ll — why, I ’ll 
ask Mr. Churchill to suggest something. He would 
know what would influence him.” 

“ The girls have gotten hold of Lillian Clarke and 
that set among the day-scholars,” said Virginia. 
“ They act as mail-carriers all the time.” 

“ I ’ll see to them also,” said the class-president, 
her pretty lips very firm. “ I can manage Lillian 
Clarke, and though she ’s as silly a little thing as 
ever walked, she is a leader among her friends. But 
she owes me a good turn for getting her out of that 
class scrape last fall, and she ’ll do something for 
me.” 

“ But why not tell Miss Douglas, then,” urged 
Margaret, sticking to her point. “ Let her tell Mrs. 
Conway.” 

'' I don’t agree with you,” broke in Judith de- 
cidedly. “ I don’t set up for a telltale.” 

“ I think that ’s entirely uncalled for,” answered 
Margaret, much hurt, but with a pretty girlish dig- 
nity. “ But it does seem to me that this is not tale- 
bearing. I certainly have a right to my opinion.” 

“Oh, don’t quarrel, girls,” begged Hester. “ We 
can’t afford that. Of course you have a right to 
your opinion, dear, and it ’s just as good as mine.” 

“Now don’t be a muff, Margaret,” said Judith. 
“ I did n’t mean j/(?u were a telltale.” 


i87 


Boarding-School Days. 

I also think, Hester,” added Margaret loyally, 

that you have a perfect right to do as you think 
best, and I think we should all stand by you, what- 
ever you decide, and not criticize you afterwards.” 

“ Thank you,” said Hester, lifting the hand 
stretched out to her caressingly to her cheek. 

Girls, I don't want to be stubborn about this and 
if the majority think we ought to tell, why tell we 
will. I '11 see Mrs. Conway this afternoon.” 

“ We ’ll take an informal ballot on the matter,” 
said Judith, promptly, rising and tearing up some 
paper. ** Those who think we ought to tell, write 
‘ yes ’ ; contrary-minded, ‘ no.’ ” 

“ That ’s a farce, for it ’s a foregone conclusion. 
Val and I will vote ‘ yes,’ and the rest of you, ‘ no,’ ” 
objected Margaret. 

“ No,” said Virginia, “ for here are Harvey and 
Lorraine to vote, and I ’m on the fence, to be 
candid.” 

“ I vote we see it out,” was Harvey’s decision, 
“ since Hester ’s willing to do the work.” 

“ I vote as Hester does,” announced Lorraine, in 
much alarm, lest she should be called upon to de- 
cide something. 

“ Majority rules,” said Judith, collecting the bal- 
lots. “ Four noes; two ayes. Virginia, where ’s 
your vote ? ” 

Unlike Val, I ’m on the side of the biggest 


A Nest of Girls. 


1 88 

row,” averred Virginia, “ for I love it like an Irish- 
man. I almost think we ’d have a bigger one by 
telling, than by letting it alone.” 

Oh, do you ? ” began Valentine in alarm, and 
all the others laughed in spite of their earnestness. 
“ I mean — well, I said what I thought was right, 
and I ’ll stick to it. But I think, with Margaret 
that we ’re bound to support you, Hester, whatever 
you decide.” 

” Good girl! ” said Virginia, patting her approv- 
ingly on the head. “Really, we ’re in for a monkey 
-and-parrot time anyway it goes, as far as I can see. 
Let us hope we ’ll all live through it.” 

“ There ’s the bell,” exclaimed Lorraine, jumping 
up, and privately glad that this stupid conference 
was at an end. Down in her heart she could not 
imagine why in the world the girls cared what the 
others did. 

Hester carried out her program in regard to Mr. 
Spaulding. Brenda, being duly instructed, brought 
her Mr. Spaulding’s card when next he called, 
which he did on the very next Friday night, or 
rather, she brought the card bearing Mr. Trainor’s 
name. It was nearly nine o’clock when he came 
and the room was full. Mrs. Conway was not 
present and Miss Roberts was in charge. 

“ Is any one here to-night for you, Hester ?” she 
asked, turning from some friends of her own who 


Boarding-School Days. 189 

were calling, as the girl passed her. “ Brenda did 
not bring me any card for you.” 

Hester hesitated a second, but did not lose her 
self-possession, although in her eager planning, she 
had overlooked this obvious contingency. 

“ No,” she said quietly, “ but I wish to speak to 
Mr. — Trainor, a moment, if I may, in place of Ro- 
melia Dransfield, who is not coming down to-night.” 

“ Certainly,” said Miss Roberts, turning to her 
own callers again, yet giving a passing thought to 
this odd conjunction of Hester and Romelia. 

Mr. Spaulding had taken his position, as he gen- 
erally did, somewhat obscured from view by a tall 
palm. The nearest person chanced to be Lodema 
Gathright, who was entertaining one of her rare 
visitors, an uncle, who was passing through the 
city. Lodema heard, as she always did, every word 
that Hester spoke when she approached, though no 
one else could have heard the low words. 

Mr. Spaulding rose in much surprise as Hester 
addressed him. 

“lam Miss Cameron,” she said briefly, her small, 
aristocratic head well up and her eyes gleaming with 
the excitement of the moment. “ I wish to speak 
to you in place of Miss Dransfield, who will not see 
you to-night.” 

“ She has sent a charming substitute,” the young 
man said glibly, his bold eyes fixed in such admira- 


190 


A Nest of Girls. 


tion upon the brilliant face that Hester felt herself 
growing hot and cold by turns. She plunged into 
her speech. 

“ I have only to say, Mr. Spaulding, that the 
fact of your coming here under the name of Mr. 
Trainor, Miss Dransfield’s cousin, is known and we 
— we desire — ** It was more difficult than she had 
imagined to say the words she had intended, under 
that bold gaze. 

“ Yes, you desire ? His look and his tone filled 
Hester with horror. In her sheltered young life 
she had never before encountered a man of this 
type and her innocence shrank, she knew not why. 
For the first time, a wave of doubt came over her. 
Surely this was Mrs. Conway’s place and not hers, 
no matter how pure her motive was. Surely honor 
and loyalty to her schoolmates could have stopped 
short of this. 

The next second she had rallied herself. She was 
in it now, and must go on. 

“ We girls of St. Ursula’s,” she went on, slowly, 
” do not desire that such things should be done. 
Miss Dransfield is a newcomer, and she does not 
know ” — it was harder work than she thought, mak- 
ing her meaning clear and not allowing herself to 
say a word of blame of Romelia to him. 

He stood with a disagreeable smile upon his lips, 
not offering to take up her meaning. 


Boarding-School Days. 191 

“ Yes 

“ Certainly you understand,” Hester plunged on 
desperately, feeling she would flounder in a moment, 
“ what I wish to say. Since you do not come to 
call here in your own proper name, surely you should 
not come at all.” 

“ I do not quite see that,” answered Mr. Spauld- 
ing, simply to make her talk, thinking to himself, 
” George! is n’t she a stunner! she is game worth 
going after ! ” 

Aloud he added: ” I do not see that any one has 
a right to object but Mrs. Conway. But of course 
you understand it ’s only a good joke, anyway. 
Still, if she knows it — as of course she will, now ? — ” 
with a slight emphasis and a suspicion of a sneer 
that made Hester frantic — ” she can forbid me the 
house. Pardon me if I say that I trust, mean- 
time ” 

” I have no present intention of telling Mrs. 
Conway,” said Hester haughtily, her proud head 
taking a set that became it well. Then the 
man’s eyes made her aware that she had made a 
misstep. 

” Unless you render it necessary for me to do so, 
by persisting in coming here in this way,” she fin- 
ished quietly, her violet eyes brilliant, but her 
temper well in hand. 

” By Jove! is n’t she royal! won’t she turn heads 


192 


A Nest of Girls. 


in a few years! ” thought the young man, intensely 
amused by the whole thing. 

“ What would happen if I should come again and 
send in my own card to you ? ” he asked with 
brazen coolness, just in order to detain her. 

The blood rushed over Hester’s face and she drew 
herself up with eyes flashing, but she had the self- 
control not to answer this. 

“ I think I have made my meaning perfectly 
clear,” she said, with grave and quiet dignity, and 
she turned to leave him. 

“ Oh, pardon me,” he said detainingly. ** I do 
not quite understand about Miss Dransfield. Am I 
not to have the pleasure of seeing her to-night, or 
did the maid fail to take my card up ? ” 

The impudence of the man for a second took 
Hester’s breath. She did not guess he was merely 
amusing himself. 

‘‘You certainly shall not see her again in this par- 
lor unless you come in your own name and with 
Mrs. Conway’s consent,” she said, stung to indig- 
nant speech, as he meant her to be. “ We girls of 
St. Ursula’s mean to stop everything clandestine. 
Mrs. Conway trusts us.” 

“ Oh, she ’s a daisy! ” thought the young man. 
But he did not refer to Mrs. Conway. 

“How cruel you are!” he said, with pretended 
concern. “ Imagine my anguish of mind when you 



SHE DREW HERSELF UP WITH EYES FLASHING. Page ig2, 



193 


Boarding-School Days. 

take away my chance of seeing — eh — Miss Drans- 
field here and reduce me to a casual meeting at her 
estimable aunt’s.” 

The mocking tones, the bold, unconcealed admi- 
ration of herself, the slur his accent and glance cast 
on Romelia, who was after all a girl and therefore 
to be defended, were all intolerable, while the ne- 
cessity of the low tones they had maintained 
throughout their interview for fear of being over- 
heard, added to the intensity of the situation. He 
spoke again. 

“ Do take pity on me and let me come and see 
you sometime,” suddenly changing his tone to one 
of ingratiating softness. 

Hester’s eyes were like violet steel. Her lips 
were one angry scarlet line. Her lithe young fig- 
ure stood like an insulted Diana. 

‘ ‘ Go out of that door this instant, or I will call 
Miss Roberts.” 

The words were spoken hardly above her breath, 
for Hester felt that if she let herself go, she would 
shriek. 

During all the interview both had remained 

standing quite screened from observation by the 

tall palm on one side and on the other by the large 

chair six feet away, where Lodema Gathright’s 

uncle was sitting, with his huge bulk. His loud, 

hearty tones were plainly audible above all in the 
13 


194 


A Nest of Girls. 


room and had served for a further shield. Lodema 
herself, half-listening to her uncle, half-catching 
with involuntarily strained ears, the voice that she 
always heard above all others, instantly suspicious 
with the quickened sense her adoration of Hester 
gave her that something was wrong, instinctively 
feeling that she must shelter her somehow, plied 
her uncle with questions and laughed at his stories. 
But low as were Hester’s last words, Lodema caught 
them. She also saw that Miss Roberts had been 
watching the corner with gathering interest, and, 
her callers having that moment departed, was slowly 
approaching; she felt, by some intuition, that Hes- 
ter wished to escape observation. 

With a quickness and tact born of her love, 
she sprang up and laid a detaining hand on Miss 
Roberts’s arm. 

** Oh, Miss Roberts! I want you to meet my 
uncle — I mean, I want my uncle to meet you. He 
— he — has often seen you on the street. I mean — 
he knows Mrs. Conway, too.” Lodema was floun- 
dering, but she knew she had accomplished her 
purpose. Miss Roberts, attributing her awkward- 
ness only to her shyness, had to stop with her back 
to Hester. 

Hester had flung out her hand as she bade Mr. 
Spaulding go, and he, with a quick movement, 
possessed himself of it, bent over it a moment as if 


195 


Boarding-School Days. 

saying an ordinary good-night, but with an insolent 
pressure, and a low word, “ If you ever repent, a 
line will bring me”; then louder, ‘‘Good-night, 
Miss Cameron. Please give my compliments to — 
my cousin and tell her how sorry I am about her 
head. Hope I ’ll have better luck next time I 
call.” He turned quickly and said good-evening 
very impressively to Miss Roberts as he went by 
her. 

“ Hester,” began Miss Roberts, in her coldest 
tones, but Hester had vanished. 

Even as she was flying along the corridors, the 
young man was marching down the street, with a 
somewhat stinging recollection of a girl’s fair face, 
filled with loathing unspeakable, as for a serpent, — a 
face full of the horror that innocence instinctively 
feels for evil. 

“ Little pasty-faced, red-headed fool,” he mut- 
tered to himself. But he did not mean Hester 
Cameron. 


CHAPTER XII. 


JUDITH. 

H ester flew into her room where Margaret and 
Judith were eagerly awaiting her. On Fri- 
day nights, when there was no study hour, the girls 
who were not in the reception-room were allowed 
the evening to themselves. Hester sprang to the 
washstand and turning out a bowlful of water began 
scrubbing at her hands with soap and nail-brush as 
if she had been in soot, paying no heed to their im- 
patient questions. 

“ For goodness’ sake, Hester!” scolded Judith. 
“ Your hands can’t be so dirty as all that. Do an- 
swer us! Did you see him ? Did you give him his 
cong^f Was Mrs. Conway there ? Was it conspicu- 
ous ? Hester ! ” 

Hester turned to them tragically, in spite of her 
towel, on which she was drying her hands as if they 
were rough stones. 

“ Oh, girls, he — the viper — shook hands with me! 
he made fun of me the entire time. He sneered at 
me in every way and I ’ve not done a particle of 
good. Margaret, you and Val were right. It 
was Mrs. Conway’s place and not mine. I — I tried 

196 


Boarding-School Days. 


197 


to do too much and — I Ve only lowered myself for 
nothing! He — he — oh, girls! I do believe he 
thought I was just trying to — flirt with him.” She 
turned away to hide the tears that scalded her eyes. 

In a moment Margaret had her arms around her 
holding her close. 

“ You poor darling ! Oh, you poor Hester! 
Don't mind, love. He won't dare to come again.” 

” I 'm not so sure,” said Hester miserably. 
'' And now — oh, girls! it will be a thousand times 
worse to tell Mrs. Conway than it would have been 
at first. Think of having to walk up to her and 
confess what a muddle I Ve made of this, when I 
meant to straighten things out without any fuss! ” 

She put her head down on Margaret’s shoulder, and 
hid her face. The sting of her hurt pride and the be- 
wildered sense of failure were intolerable, but Marga- 
ret’s loyal, caressing love took out a little of the burn. 

“You ’re tired, child, and excited,” said Judith 
practically. “ Do go to bed. You will feel better in 
the morning. I ’m sure it ’s all right, really. Mr. 
What-do-you-call-him was only bluffing you. He 
won’t dare come again. The girls won’t dare do 
much, on their part, as they know we are all on 
the lookout. There are only those four to watch, 
anyway.” 

“ And Eleanor,” said Hester slowly. “ Judith, 
Margaret, we have not done right about Eleanor. 


198 


A Nest of Girls. 


I have been feeling it lately. We might have done 
more to hold her.’' 

“I’m not going to have my conscience harrowed 
up any further to-night, Miss Cameron, so just keep 
those pricks to yourself, please,” and Judith, per- 
mitting herself the unwonted caress of a pat on the 
head by way of good-night to her, went her way. 

Hester got out of Margaret’s arms slowly. 

“ I suppose she ’s right and I am upset. Mar- 
garet, I do wonder if it was all my horrid pride that 
made me want to manage this myself and not alto- 
gether a sense of honor about not telling of the 
girls.” Hester spoke wistfully with all the fire gone 
out of her eyes and a sensitive quiver on her mobile 
lips. The nameless fascination that always clung to 
her was never stronger than now with this touch of 
sweet humility upon her. 

Margaret kissed her many times with a passion 
of love and longing that she might comfort her. 
She loved Hester so! She could not bear to have 
her unhappy. 

“ No, no, my dear! ” she said with all her heart. 
“You truly did what you thought was right.’’ 
But Hester sighed. 

The next day Hester told Romelia what she had 
done, and Romelia was for once struck dumb. Then 
she burst out furiously about her rights and that it 
was a pity she could n’t have her own callers and 


Boarding-School Days. 199 

she would see what Mrs. Conway would say to such 
impudence. 

“ Why, do,” said Hester, smiling in spite of her- 
self. “ Do tell her and I will try to cultivate a little 
respect for you.” 

Well, if you think you can prevent my seeing 
him,” said Romelia, changing the subject suddenly, 

you ’re much mistaken, that ’s all. I guess I can 
bribe as well as you can, Hester Cameron, and if 
you get Brenda to take his card to you, I ’ll go one 
higher every time.” 

‘‘ I did not bribe,” said Hester coldly. ” I 
simply told her to do it. You can try any means 
you are familiar with. But rest assured of one 
thing : if Mr. Spaulding continues calling here, he 
comes under his own name, and with Mrs. Conway’s 
consent. I have some sense of decency left, if you 
have not, and I do not intend he shall have the op- 
portunity to continue talking about the St. Ursula 
girls as he has been doing.” 

” How do you know ?” cried Romelia angrily. 
” You can’t know if he says anything he should n’t.” 

” Mr. Churchill has heard him,” began Hester 
unguardedly, and Romelia broke in triumphantly : 

” Oh, yes, Mrs. Conway’s little pet girls can talk 
to students or do anything else they like. It ’s only 
poor little new girls that must mind their p’s and 
q’s!” 


200 


A Nest of Girls. 


Hester laughed again. Romelia was always irre- 
sistibly funny when she got to a certain stage of 
wrath. She was so delightfully inconsequent. 

You need n’t laugh, Hester Cameron, in that 
sniggering way of yours,” she cried furiously. “ I 
guess I ’m going to have my fun as well as you, do 
what you like ! I never saw such a stupid, poky set 
of girls anyway. No one but Maud Perry and those 
girls have any get up and get ! ” 

“ Then we ’re a mutual admiration society,” an- 
swered Hester calmly. “ I never saw such an un- 
mitigated goose as you. But I beg your pardon. 
There is no need of our exchanging these compli- 
ments. I have said what I came to say. I advise 
you to be wise and don’t drive me any further,” and 
Hester went back to her own domain. 

“ Where do you suppose Romelia Dransfield got 
her idea of boarding-school life ?” she asked Judith, 
dropping into the Fern room where Judith and 
Lorraine lived. “ I wonder why she thinks that a 
girl decently brought up can do things at school 
that she would scorn to do at home.” 

“ She would n’t scorn them anywhere, my dear,” 
answered Judith tersely. “ Hester, do for pity’s 
sake dismiss that gang from our minds for a little 
while and have a little rational conversation. We ’ve 
talked of nothing else since we came back.” 

” With all the pleasure in life. Oh, there is Lor- 


201 


Boarding-School Days. 

raine. Come here, my beauty. I have n’t seen 
you all day.” 

Lorraine sat down in Hester’s lap and curled her- 
self up like a kitten, with her arms around Hester’s 
neck and her head on her shoulder. 

” No, you ’re so busy settling affairs of state, you 
old sweetheart. Why don’t you let those horrid 
girls do all the bad things they want to, and not 
bother about it and let them get found out or any- 
thing ? It does n’t make any difference to us.” 
Lorraine nestled closer to Hester and kissed her 
neck in the little soft spot back of her ear. ” For 
you see, you get worried and cross and then you ’re 
not so nice to me.” 

” Oh, my baby!” laughed Hester, hugging her 
close. ” How could I ever be anything but ‘ nice ’ 
to you ? Don’t go, Judith.” 

” Must,” said that young woman grimly. ” I 
thought we were going to have some rational con- 
versation. I am going to find Miss Douglas.” 

She closed the door with her usual gentleness — 
Judith never touched anything roughly — knowing 
that neither of the two really noticed her going. 

” How Hester loves that kitten! and she isn’t 
worthy of a tenth part of it! ” with a touch of bit- 
terness, though she would have repudiated with 
scorn the intimation that she ever missed and craved 
just such brooding love from somebody. She knew 


202 


A Nest of Girls. 


that Lorraine was as fond of Hester as she could be 
of any one, perhaps, but she had seen Lorraine, 
when Hester was not present, curl up in other girls’ 
arms and purr with delight at other girls’ petting. 
Petting and love were absolute necessities in pretty 
Lorraine’s being. Her exquisite daintiness and 
flower-like beauty, her caressing little ways, her 
fingers with their rose-leaf touch, always drew a 
shower of demonstration from those around her. 

“ Miss Douglas, I wish you were one of the 
girls,” Judith said wistfully, finding Winifred at 
home. It was the time between walk and study- 
hour. 

” Come in, dear, and play I am * one of the 
girls,’ ” said Winifred cordially. Judith rarely, if 
ever, came alone to see her. 

” No use playing,” sighed Judith. You ’d 
have to be the real article to do any good, and 
then you ’d probably be as silly as the rest of us are 
— no disrespect intended, ma’am.” 

Judith sat down on the floor hugging her knees 
and resting her chin gloomily thereon. She was 
apt to choose some uncomfortable attitude. 

” Is your doll stuffed with sawdust, little girl ? ” 
asked Winifred, after a moment, finding she did not 
speak. ” Come, tell me about it.” 

” Can’t, ma’am. Oh, it ’s a combination of 
things that makes my life a burden to-day. It is 


203 


Boarding-School Days. 

not only the girls’ cutting up as they do, but — I 
don’ t know what. I ’m homesick, I guess.” In 
her unusual depression she did not notice all she 
had said. Winifred sat silent, hoping that she would 
go on, and that some clue might be given to what- 
ever was wrong in school. But for once Judith was 
intent on herself. To do her justice, she rarely 
dwelt much on that subject. 

Presently a tear trickled out of the gray-green 
eyes and meandered down the short nose. Judith 
angrily blinked and twisted her face, but otherwise 
disdained to notice this unusual sign of emotion. 

” Did you ever know such an idiot as to be home- 
sick when I ’ve really no home. Miss Douglas, and 
never had one ? ” 

” You poor little girl!” Winifred touched the 
light hair gently. Judith jerked her head away. 

” Oh, I don’t mean to be soft,” she said impa- 
tiently, ” only it all comes over me, what it would 
have seemed like to have had a real home and have 
been taught things like other girls.” 

Winifred, afraid of checking this unexpected con- 
fidence, did not venture to speak or move. Judith 
so persistently mocked at every sign of feeling, that 
it was not easy to know how to deal with her. But 
most reserved people speak freely if they speak at 
all, and Judith was no exception to the rule. After 
a moment she went on as if talking to herself. 


204 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ You see, I am so hard and critical and say nasty, 
sneering things continually. But when I was small 
the servants would make me angry just to hear me 
scold. I used to get into frightful rages then, and 
throw things around. Miss Douglas, I felt so help- 
less ! Then I learned that I could say things to 
make them angry and after a time, they did n’t dare 
to get me started, for fear of what I would say.” 
She hugged her knees a moment in silence. 

” Then I had a governess and she was good 
enough to me, but she was such a silent woman ! 
She did n’t like to hear me laugh and talk. It 
made her nervous, she said. And father would n’t 
let me talk much to him. He said it disturbed him. 
And my cousin Dick — he was two years older than 
I and the only playmate I had — used to drive me 
nearly frantic with teasing and I had to learn to 
stop him in the only way I could — with my tongue. 
People began to call me saucy and impudent, and I 
dare say I was, but I was only defending myself. 
Once I heard one of the servants say that I was a 
‘ cold-blooded little brute.’ But no one ever loved 
me, Miss Douglas, in all my life. No one.” 

“You poor little girl! ” said Winifred softly, for 
the second time. She laid her hand again lightly 
on the round head near her, and this time it was 
not repulsed. 

“ As for that,” went on Judith, as if Winifred 


205 


Boarding-School Days. 

had not spoken, ** I don*t love anybody myself, I 
suppose. Perhaps I could n’t if I tried. Some- 
times I wonder if I know what love really is. I 
suppose there zs such a thing ? ” wistfully. 

Winifred laughed outright. 

Oh, you funny child! Yes, there is such a 
thing, and — ” with quick seriousness — “ I do as- 
sure you that love is the only thing that makes life 
worth living. Any of the noble loves possible to 
us, I mean. We must love somebody if we are to be 
worth anything in this world, for it is the only thing 
that takes us entirely out of ourselves. 

** But, Miss Douglas,” and the impatient head 
jerked itself again from Winifred’s light touch. ” I 
get so deadly tired of all this billing and cooing be- 
tween the girls and their crushes and mashes. Is 
that love ? ” 

” Oh, no, dear! it is just sentimentality. Don’t 
dignify it by the name of love. Don’t you really 
love anybody, Judith ? ” 

The girl considered. 

” I do not believe I know just what you mean by 
love,” she said meditatively. ” Hester says she 
loves Lorraine and she likes to pet and kiss her. 
I ’d no more think of hugging and kissing a girl 
than I would a policeman.” 

” Don’t you care for Lorraine ? Everybody does.” 

” H’m! I could n’t be very nasty to those brown 


206 


A Nest of Girls. 


eyes,” with a glimpse of her crooked smile, ” but I 
could endure life if I never saw her again. Probably 
I can’t love anybody. I told you so before. Please 
tell me how you know. Miss Douglas.” 

” You ’d better go to the poets,” answered Wini- 
fred, very much amused. ” Browning knew.” 

” But Browning ’s dead and gone to heaven, and 
he won’t tell me. Do you have to think every- 
thing a person does is right ? If you do, I ’m all 
out of it. I never could think everyi^va^ anyho&y 
did was right.” 

” Oh, well, the people you love don’t annoy you. 
If they talk, that ’s what you want and if they are 
silent, that is best, and I don’t doubt you ’d want 
to kiss them sometimes.” Winifred was laughing, 
for much as her sympathy was drawn to Judith by 
her confidence, and much as her loveless life was to 
be pitied, the element of whimsicality was never 
long absent from all she did and said, and Winifred 
felt a little constraint, not knowing at what point 
she might spring up with a laughing sneer or a jibe. 

But Judith looked thoughtful. 

” How about Virginia and Margaret and Har- 
vey ? ” asked Winifred after a moment. ” Are you 
not really fond of them ? ” 

” Oh, fond!” said Judith impatiently. ” I ’m 
fond enough of them. I like to stir up Valentine 
and tease Virginia and take Harvey down. I say 


207 


Boarding-School Days. 

plenty of mean things to all of them, though never 
as mean as I say to other people, truly. And you 
can’t imagine the number of hateful things I don't 
say. Miss Douglas.” 

I know. Well, what about Hester ?” 

“ Oh, Hester. Well, Hester — to tell the truth, 
I was thinking about Hester. I believe I do — like 
her.” Judith brought out the words unwillingly, as 
if confessing a deed of shame. 

** There ’s something about Hester that it does n’t 
matter what she does, you — like her,” she said, de- 
fensively, after a moment, though Winifred had not 
spoken. I think she has lots of faults and I don't 
think her perfect. But I felt — to-day — when I 
saw Lorraine kissing her, as if — if — ” she stopped, 
shamefaced and scarlet. 

“ Judith, dear child, let yourself go,” cried Wini- 
fred, in sudden, infinite pity for the struggling nature 
bound in the shackles of its own making. Love 
Hester! She is worthy of it, and you need some 
one to love even more than you need to be loved. 
People were not made to live so alone.” 

To her intense surprise, Judith flung her arms 
across Miss Douglas’s lap, and burying her face, 
cried unrestrainedly. It is an awesome thing to 
watch a sudden outburst of feeling in a self-con- 
trolled person, and Winifred was strangely moved. 
She had never been drawn to this thorny child till 


208 


A Nest of Girls. 


the day when she had felt her fingers jump under 
her touch. She had often questioned if there was 
really any heart whatever under the girl’s careless 
philosophy, her indifference, her apparent lack of 
the milk of human kindness, her mockery, her jibes, 
and seeming imperviousness, even while her brilliant 
talents compelled an impatient admiration. 

The next moment Winifred had gathered the girl 
up in her arms, caressing and soothing her, her own 
heart flooded with a sudden tenderness for the 
prickly nature that stung itself not less than others. 
Judith struggled fiercely for self-control, filled with 
shame and rage and indignation that she had let 
any eye look in upon that carefully guarded inner 
self, till at last she was conquered by the magnetism 
of Winifred’s tender touch and voice and the parox- 
ysm passed. 

Miss Douglas,” she said brokenly, when she 
had checked her tears and swallowed her sobs, 
“ don’t despise me, please. Indeed, I never did 
such a thing as this before. I never cry.” 

“ Despise you, dear ? For letting me see you 
have a heart ? Judith, I rejoice to see it. I respect 
you more than I ever did before.” 

“ Oh, Miss Douglas, it suddenly came over me so 
vividly that no one ever loved me in all my life ; and 
all the girls have love ! I never felt it so before. 
I ’ve always said to myself that I did n’t care, but 


209 


Boarding-School Days. 

to-day, feeling so upset about — a good many things, 
I suppose, and seeing Hester and Lorraine so happy 
together — and Lorraine is n’t worthy of all that 
Hester gives. Miss Douglas! — though I ’ve always 
laughed at them — I suddenly knew that I — I would 
like — just a little — love. And, Miss Douglas, who 
ever would give it to me ? ” 

Judith sat up on Miss Douglas’s lap. 

“ Just look at my ugly face — my extreme plain- 
ness,” said she, passionately. “ People simply 
laugh at me and with me. Nobody ever thinks I 
really care about anything that is said to me. Im- 
agine anybody ever voluntarily kissing me! No, 
stop. Miss Douglas! You shall not punish your- 
self. I know what I am, and I ’ve always known. 
Of course, I made people afraid of me. Life would 
have been unendurable if I had n’t. I never was 
made to sit in a corner. Now, look at Hester! 
How people love her, and she never tries to win 
anybody’s affection. She is n’t a darling like Lor- 
raine, or beautiful like Eleanor Scott, nor amusing 
like Virginia, but people love her so! Down in our 
hearts, we know we ’d all die — for Hester! ” 

For a moment Winifred’s pitiful thought flew 
from the girl she held in her arms to that other on 
whom all fortune’s favors seemed lavished with 
prodigal abundance, and she pondered on the ques- 
tion as old as humanity, “ unto him that hath shall 
14 


210 


A Nest of Girls. 


be given.*' Why should some have that subtle, in- 
explicable power of drawing all hearts to them in a 
lavish waste of love, for one drop of which others 
stand by and starve ? Hester never knew of even 
half the love that was flung upon her. It was sim- 
ply an atmosphere she had always breathed and she 
claimed nothing whatever on the strength of it. 
On the contrary, she was a temperament peculiarly 
fitted to stand alone in the positive strength of her 
character, in her independence and quiet ability to 
tread a path she had marked out for herself, regard- 
less of praise or blame. 

“ And this poor child! A tithe of that love 
would humanize her as nothing else can do ! *’ Wini- 
fred thought sadly, as her arms involuntarily tight- 
ened around Judith with an overpowering wave of 
sympathy and affection — and an instant, keen self- 
reproach, that the feeling was not love ! 

“ Judith, listen to me,” she said presently. 
“ Characters like Hester’s are unusual, and when 
you find them they are always leaders. The 
world needs them. They have their work to do 
and their own responsibility — oh, incalculable re- 
sponsibility ! I am sure that the talent of winning 
love is one that is bestowed for a distinct purpose 
and those that have it must one day render an ac- 
count for it. It is like a talent for music or art. I 
have said this to Hester herself. So, dear child, if 


21 1 


Boarding-School Days. 

you have not this gift be thankful at least that you 
escape the weight of influence it entails.” 

Judith slipped to the floor and sat hugging her 
knees again in deep thought. Winifred went on 
slowly. 

“ But very much of the condition you complain 
of is, after all, in your own hands. You are cased 
in an armor of pride, you have prided yourself on 
caring for no one, on being independent, on hating 
any sign of love, of jibing at it in others, in taking 
no favors, in never remaining one moment under 
obligation. You have prided yourself on your 

brains and cleverness ” 

“ Oh, come. Miss Douglas, draw it mild! ” 

“ No, I shall not stop. You have uncorked my 
lips, and you shall hear me. Down in your heart 
you have indeed said to yourself, if I cannot be 
loved, I will be feared. You have suffered tor- 
ments for all the unkind things that were said to 
you, as a child, and if you will acknowledge it, you 
take an actual pleasure in paying back to humanity 
in general what you have endured. It is a pleasure 
to send a barbed sting right to the depths of some 
other girhs heart. Tell me, do you not feel glad 
that you have hurt her ? ” 

Judith raised a startled, frightened gaze. 

“Miss Douglas!” She faltered. Do 1 feel 
that ? ” 


212 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ My dear, look deep and see! ” 

Judith’s head went down on her knees. 

“ Is it mixed with envy, too ? ” went on Winifred, 
inexorably. She knew the spirit she had to deal 
with. This strong, undisciplined nature could bear 
the knife in a friend’s hand. “Is there not a spark 
of quick resentment when another girl’s beauty or 
fascination is praised ? — not her brains ; there, you 
do not fear.” 

Judith made an inarticulate sound, but her face 
was hidden. 

“ And then, perhaps, a sneering fling at that girl, 
a few minutes later ? You are so much cleverer 
than most people, Judith, that it gives you a tre- 
mendous advantage. Think how the girls dread to 
incur your disapproval of any measure! ‘ Judith 
Champney approves ’ carries almost anything 
through, or you can ruin a project, just as easily, 
by a shaft of ridicule. You have a marvellous 
power of showing up a scheme vividly in a word 
or two. Oh, my dear! God has given you great 
talents, too ! Do not bury them in a grave of bit- 
terness! ” 

Still there was silence from the huddled figure on 
the floor. Winifred could not tell how she had 
taken the words. Presently she ventured to lay her 
hand again on the bent head. It remained motion- 
less, but Winifred felt the slight quiver that ran 


Boarding-School Days. 213 

through her frame. Then as the minutes passed, 
and the silence was unbroken, she gathered courage 
and went on. 

Dear child, may I tell' you something else ? 
Do you know what your life needs above all things 
and what you cannot do without ? Do you know 
what is the only thing that will smooth out this 
rough way and give peace to this torn heart of 
yours ? Judith, you need — God! ” 

As if the word fell in with her own thoughts, 
Judith at last raised her face and looked Winifred 
in the eyes with a gaze of beseeching intensity. 

Miss Douglas, I can’t find God. Where is 
He? What is He?” 

” Dear heart, God is — Love! ” 

Judith caught her breath. The familiar words 
smote on her brain with a sudden startling force. 

” God is — Love,” she repeated, in a half-whisper. 
” Oh, I wish I understood ! I ’m such a heathen. 
Miss Douglas, what do you mean by that ? What 
is God to you ? ” 

” To me ? ” Winifred’s eyes were alight with a 
sudden flame. ” To me ? A Friend! ” 

” Oh, make me understand! You are using a 
language I don't comprehend.” She caught Wini- 
fred’s hands in impatient eagerness. ” He is just 
an abstraction to me. Is He real to you ? How 
can He be ? ” 


214 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ * Our Father, who art in Heaven,’ ” quoted 
Winifred softly. 

“ But that means nothing to me, either,” per- 
sisted Judith, miserably. “ I might as well say 
‘ My father who is in Europe ! ’ Oh, Miss Doug- 
las, is that what ’s the matter ? that a father means 
nothing to me ? He is just as much an abstraction 
as God is. My father pays my bills and God gives 
us — sunshine! How can He be real to you ? Make 
me understand ! ” The pathos of the yearning in- 
sistent tones filled Winifred’s heart with tears. She 
felt as a traveller might who, having knocked hope- 
lessly in the darkness at a blank, barred door, finds 
it flung wide to him at the first touch, with an 
eager welcome, where he expected only grim denial. 

“ Oh, Judith, how can I tell it all to you ?” she 
said. “You must be inside the cathedral to see the 
glory of the stained-glass windows. Outside, they 
look dull and common. You say no one loves you. 
Open your heart to God. He is there, if you will let 
Him enter. Perhaps God has shut you away from 
much human love, because you would not seek Him, 
otherwise. We must have love, child, human and 
divine both, if God wills, but divine love always.” 

Judith sighed. 

“ And God is a friend to you ? ” she asked wist- 
fully. “ Then one could never feel lonely. Do 
you always feel Him ? ” 


215 


Boarding-School Days. 

“Sometimes — when things are going very 
smoothly — I forget Him for weeks together,” an- 
swered Winifred, slowly. “ Then hard times come, 
and I can scarcely bear them, and then suddenly I 
remember that — He is my friend.” 

“ And you think I can find Him if I want 
Him ?” 

“ Dear child, there is no manner of doubt of that ! ” 

“ But, Miss Douglas, I want to tell you that what 
you said a few minutes ago is frightfully true, and I 
never knew it, and I— don’t know that it ’s going to 
be any better. Just at this minute I feel as I did n’t 
care. There is a great hole in my life and I want to 
fill it!” 

Winifred, leaning forward, took Judith’s hands in 
hers. 

“ Listen, dear. Do you know these old lines ? 

“ * There are those who sigh that no fond heart is theirs. 
None loves them best — O vain and selfish sigh ! 

Out of the bosom of His love He spares — 

The Father spares the Son, for f/iee to die ! * ” 

Judith’s wistful eyes grew dim. 

“ I will find Him,” she nodded. She rose, hesi- 
tated, stooped, kissed Miss Douglas once shyly, 
then slowly left the room. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


AN AFTERNOON TEA. 

V IRGINIA flew to meet Hester after school the 
next Monday. 

Do you know that villain was here again on 
Friday night ? How do you suppose he dared? ” 
she cried excitedly. 

“Really?” asked Hester blankly. “And I 
said I would tell Mrs. Conway if he came again! 
How dared he! Did Romelia see him ? ” 

“ Of course. I noticed she looked very beaming 
yesterday, and she called me ‘ Virgie ’ till I was 
nearly distracted. I asked her if she was not out of 
her first childhood or was approaching her second.” 

“ But if he came again,” mused Hester anxiously, 
“ all my interview went for nothing, just nothing! 
We have it all to do still,” she added despondently. 

“ But you can’t see him again, my dear. Listen 
to this that Katharine Henry told me. Jack 
Churchill told her yesterday that he was at a 
restaurant with Mr. Trent last Friday night and 
that Spaulding creature came in with two or three 
other men and sat down at a table near. He ’d just 
come from here and had met the other men on the 
216 


217 


Boarding-School Days. 

street. He got off the whole story to them of how 
he first came and how the rest of us had somehow 
gotten hold of it, and how you had came down to 
see him instead of Romelia and — and — all.’’ Vir- 
ginia considerately refrained from repeating all that 
Katharine had told her, and Jack Churchill, on his 
part, had given Katharine a very mild version of the 
actual conversation. 

He really told them ?” cried Hester in horror. 

He told them about me ? What did he say ? ' 

“ Of course he was disagreeable — made it out that 
you tried to cut Romelia out, you know,” hesitated 
Virginia, carefully selecting. ” He thought it a 
good joke. So he came again last week, Friday, 
hoping, he said, that you ’d appear on the scene. 
But Romelia was hanging about very closely, and 
when the bell rang she chanced to be coming out of 
the study-parlor. So she simply went forward. But 
Mr. Spaulding was mad and did n’t stay long, so he 
said. Oh, he said that he did n’t see how that little 
freckled, red-headed thing could think he ’d come 
to see her except for the joke,” finished Virginia, 
with gusto. 

” The nasty viper,” said Hester girlishly. 

” Yes, is n’t he ? But now we must do some- 
thing else. He may come at any time again. You 
see, one of us can’t see him again, after that.” 

” Perhaps Mr. Churchill might know of a way to 


2i8 


A Nest of Girls. 


frighten him off/’ mused Hester, but rather hope- 
lessly. “ Virginia, it ’s just impossible to tell Mrs. 
Conway now, whatever was right at first. Don’t 
you see ? ” 

Yes, Virginia saw. 

“ I believe I ’ll write a little note to Mr. Churchill 
and ask Katharine to get it to him. I ’ll just ask 
him if he can suggest anything that would have any 
influence on Mr. Spaulding. Men know how to get 
at each other,” she concluded, sighing. And Vir- 
ginia assented, neither of the girls, in their ardor of 
reforming their little world all by themselves, re- 
flecting that they were laying themselves open to 
the law by this proceeding. 

So the girls wrote their note very carefully. 

” Dear Mr. Churchill,” it began: 

“You have been so very kind that we venture to 
ask if you can help us a little further with some sug- 
gestions concerning Mr. S. Men understand each 
other so well, that you may think of something 
that will be effectual. You know, of course, to 
what I am alluding. Our greatest fear is that Mrs. 
Conway may know, and that we must prevent in 
any way possible. 

Sincerely yours, 

“ Hester Cameron.” 

“ There! ” said Hester, sighing again. “ I had 
to make it rather blind, for I did not want to put 


219 


Boarding-School Days. 

any more on paper, but he dl understand, I think. 
Katharine can bring me an answer. Oh, why did 
Romelia get us all into this fuss! Why did n’t 
Valentine go straight to Mrs. Conway when she first 
discovered that Eleanor had been off, since she 
thinks it is right to tell! ” 

The note was sealed and consigned to Katharine, 
who thought she had lost it on the way home. 
Then being ill for two or three days and not at 
school, the loss was not explained to Hester. Mrs. 
Conway, however, profoundly puzzled as she was, 
and bitterly wounded that the girls she had loved 
and trusted for years could possibly be playing her 
false, was too wise to force the situation. Whatever 
was wrong, nothing would be made worse by wait- 
ing, and a day or two at this crisis might develop 
much to eyes alert. She watched the ‘ ‘ Merry Chant- 
ers ” but they were studying well and class reports 
were high. Hester, she noticed, looked flushed and 
restless; all day, on Tuesday, she saw that Judith 
went about like one in a dream ; Katharine Henry 
was not at school. Romelia Dransfield was bub- 
bling over in the school parlor after dinner, when Mrs. 
Conway went in there for a little while, as she occa- 
sionally did and she heard her say to Selma Hancock : 

“ Oh, Philadelphia and Boston think themselves 
so awfully smart! I guess I ’ve let them see that 
they can’t beat Buffalo! ” ^ 


220 


A Nest of Girls. 


The next afternoon, Wednesday, Mrs. Conway 
went to a college tea, given by the son of an old 
friend of hers, in his rooms, for his mother, who was 
spending a few days in town. The friend was Mrs. 
Trent, and the son was Jack Churchill's chum. The 
rooms were in brave array and the guests wandered 
about, admiring and exclaiming at the accumulated 
decorations of three years, which nearly hid the 
walls. Mrs. Conway was talking eagerly to her old 
friend whom she had not seen for years, when, sud- 
denly turning to make way for a departing guest, she 
came face to facewith a picture, on the frameof which 
was pinned an open note, with a line of bold, dashing 
writing on it that she knew only too well. Under 
that, were some pennies stuck down with blotches 
of red sealing-wax, and the initials, “V. H,” 

“ More of this mischief! What can this mean ? 
No words, fortunately, and only initials. Where 
can she have met Alec Trent and I not know it ? 
Is this a part of the rest, or something that is by 
itself? Yet — Hester’s note was to Mr. Churchill 
and he is Alec’s chum. I wonder — ” Aloud, she 
was saying, “No, indeed, Alec, these rooms do not 
look much as your mother’s and mine did at college. 
You know we were roommates for our Junior year. 
Even to-day, it seems to me that girls cannot rival 
men in their luxury. Look at Mr. Hayes’s rooms, 
where I was at tea last week! “ 


221 


Boarding-School Days. 

** And they ’re not a patch on Chamberlain’s,” 
affirmed Alec Trent. ” They are the show rooms 
of all. I would n’t like to say how many thousands 
of dollars the furniture and bric-a-brac are valued 
at.” 

” Think of putting all that in two bed-rooms and 
a study ! ” 

” Would n’t you like to see them, Mrs. Conway ? 
Mother, I know you would. Chamberlain asked us 
to make use of his rooms this afternoon if we liked, 
and he ’s always delighted to show them. He ’s an 
awfully nice fellow. He ’ll be in presently, and will 
take you over. Here he comes now. Mother, let 
me introduce Mr. Chamberlain.” 

Young Chamberlain, on being asked, professed 
himself more than delighted to show his apartments, 
though disclaiming their being anything remarkable ; 
therefore, he led Mrs. Conway and the two pretty 
girls who had come under her chaperonage down 
the corridor. As they entered his rooms, three or 
four men stood talking just inside the door. One 
of these Mr. Chamberlain introduced as his chum. 
One of the others, as the party entered, immediately 
tried to make a rapid escape, unnoticed, but Mrs. 
Conway, it chanced, was directly between him and 
the door. She recognized him instantly, and ad- 
dressed him. 

I know Mr. Trainor, do I not?” she said, pleas- 


222 


A Nest of Girls. 


antly enough, though without any of her usual grace 
and cordiality, for she disliked the face of this young 
man, though she had found there was nothing es- 
pecial to be said to the discredit of Mr. Trainor. 

“ Trainor ? No, Mrs. Conway, this is Spaulding. 
Trainor is quite a different-looking fellow,” put in 
Trent boyishly. 

Mrs. Conway gave a startled glance at the young 
man and their eyes met full, for a second. In that 
second she had the key to the situation. The out- 
line of Romelia Dransfield’s plot was in her 
possession. 

“You came under false pretences,” her eyes said. 

“What are you going to do about it?” his 
sneered. 

“ Yes, I see I have made a mistake ”; she spoke 
with perfect composure. Without any further 
recognition of the young man, she turned away. 
He evaporated into the passage. 

“ Who is he ? ” she said, indifferently, to Alec 
Trent. 

No one who would ever come in your way, Mrs. 
Conway,” returned Alec Trent briefly. He had 
forgotten the story that Jack Churchill had told 
him the night that they had heard Spaulding talk- 
ing in the restaurant. “ I never saw him in these 
rooms before. Probably he had dropped in on 
some errand. Are n’t these jolly quarters ? ” 


223 


Boarding-School Days. 

The tempest had burst. The moment Mrs. Con- 
way entered the dining-room that evening everybody 
knew it. Her face was grave and stern, though her 
full, rich voice was as even as usual when she spoke. 
She was one of the rare women whose tones might 
be indignant or scornful or stern as necessity de- 
manded but never merely angry. At the close of 
dinner, she rose quietly, with a motion of her hand 
that kept the girls seated. 

“ I wish to see you all this evening at eight in the 
study-parlor. The French and German conversa- 
tion-classes will be omitted to-night.” 

The quiet gravity of her tone struck a chill to 
every girl's heart. They often wished that Mrs. 
Conway would fly into a rage and scold them 
roundly, for they all felt that something that is so 
weightily oppressive in absolute self-control and 
calm justice. 

Then the signal for rising was given and Mrs. 
Conway went her way, while the girls flocked as 
usual to the school parlor, a silent, apprehensive 
set. Romelia Dransfield was pastily terrified. The 
“ Sin-nics " clustered in a corner, with a hurricane 
of whispers blowing about them. The “ Merry 
Chanters " sat in their favorite window seat, saying 
little but thinking hard. 

“ Wonder if I '11 catch it for not telling,” medi- 
tated Hester; “ anyway, I 'm glad it 's out! " 


224 


A Nest of Girls. 


Why did n’t I tell long ago ? ” sighed Valen- 
tine inwardly. “ I might have saved all this! ” 
The other girls, all of whom were more or less 
aware of what had been going on, though few of 
them knew all the details, tried to be as usual, since 
they were not aware of any special delinquency on 
their own parts — except that the schoolgirl con- 
science always has so many unconfessed sins on its 
records that it is never surprised at a charge. 

The bell rang at eight and the girls trooped 
slowly across the hall to the study-parlor and took 
their places at their desks. 

When they were all seated, Mrs. Conway entered, 
looking taller and grander than ever in her dress of 
heavy black satin, her usual dinner costume, which 
set off to perfection her prematurely white hair. 
Her beauty, her gracious dignity, were never with- 
out their effect on the girls. 

She took her position by the table, resting on it 
the tips of her firm fingers; her hand was the ideal 
one of the born commander, firm, large, shapely, 
and white, with the square finger-tips of the artistic 
temperament. With thoughtful, impersonal gaze, 
her dark-blue eyes like deep wells of reproach, she 
stood perfectly still, looking from one to another of 
the grave young faces before her. To the excited 
girls that close careful scrutiny lasted an hour, but 
they knew by experience that Mrs. Conway never 


Boarding-School Days. 225 

attacked her subject hastily, and they waited un- 
easily. 

At last Mrs. Conway spoke. 

Since Christmas it has been very plain to me 
that something was radically wrong among you. I 
love and trust you, my girls, as you well know, and 
so I waited patiently for the trouble to come to the 
surface. But knowing you all as I do it was not 
very long before I began to see who were the chief 
offenders and I still waited for matters to develop. 
There have been some things done this winter that 
have puzzled me, some that distressed me, and one 
that has shocked and hurt me beyond all words.” 

She paused, and her dark, brilliant eyes travelled 
slowly over the intent, anxious faces before her. 
Where would the lightning strike ? Some of the 
girls turned and looked apprehensively at each 
other, some assumed defiance, and some sat with 
downcast eyes. 

Some things that puzzled me, I said,” resumed 

Mrs. Conway, after a moment. ” Such as the little 

spirit of insubordination that I have seen and which 

is entirely new among you; a spirit as if your 

teachers were your enemies and not your friends. 

My girls, no one studies you more closely to make 

you useful, happy, noble women than we do. You 

are never needlessly thwarted and restrained. You 

have every liberty compatible with the best govern- 
15 


226 


A Nest of Girls. 


ment of this school. An appreciation of this you 
have always shown till lately. 

“ Next, some things that distressed me. Such 
things are the silly flirting that has been going on 
between some of you — very few of you, I am proud 
to say — and the students. This I shall speak of in 
private to the several offenders, whom I know.’' 

Several girls glanced furtively at one another. 

“ On this point, I have only to say to-night that 
this sort of thing is not essentially wicked, but 
simply unladylike and underbred. It draws a dis- 
agreeable attention to my house. I refuse to per- 
mit it, exactly as your mothers would refuse to 
permit it if you were at home, — not because this is 
a boarding-school, and therefore you are to be re- 
strained, but, — because you are ladies and therefore 
you must live up to your birthright. The cigarette 
smoking which some of you have attempted, comes 
under the same head, as well as the note-writing, 
and these points I will also deal with separately. 

“ Last of all, and by far the most important, a 
piece of deliberate deceit, carried on for weeks, 
has come to my ears. It was incredible to me at 
first, yet the moment I accepted the central fact, 
many things that had been blind were made plain, 
and proofs from every direction started up. This 
falseness to the trust I have reposed in you has hurt 
me beyond measure.” 


Boarding-School Days. 227 

Mrs. Conway stopped again, but this time her 
grave eyes were fastened on the floor. The minute’s 
silence seemed intolerable. 

“ My girls, you know that I have always been 
proud to trust you. You know my claim that a 
school for girls could be built up and managed even 
in the midst of a college city like this, on a founda- 
tion of Honor and Right, without the fretting re- 
strictions of numberless rules. That thus guided, 
controlled but not closely fettered, your characters 
would be firmer, stronger, truer, than if you were 
hedged about and held upright by rigid government ; 
therefore, I have trusted you fully. 

“For the first time in an experience of eighteen 
years during which time I have had my girls about 
me, I come face to face with an act of colossal de- 
ceit and unfaithfulness. It is a thought that I can 
scarcely endure, all the more that it has come, I say 
frankly, from a somewhat unexpected quarter. 
More than this, and it nearly breaks my heart to 
say it, suspicion seems to point in some way to cer- 
tain ones whom I have always felt were beyond re- 
proach or the possibility of distrust, — some whom I 
have always loved and trusted ! ” 

Her voice broke slightly here, and several shame- 
faced girls lifted their heads and looked at each. 
Whom did she mean ? 

“ I have said this much in general to you all,” 


228 


A Nest of Girls. 


she resumed, “ for I wished you all to know that I 
am now fully aware of all that has been done. 
Even if you wish to deceive me, you cannot do it 
long. Your own faces, your own actions, your own 
words, looks, gestures, all betray you. I know you 
well and I cannot help reading you like open books 
— because I love you.'' 

The peculiar thrill of Mrs. Conways’s voice, fuller 
and lower than ever under the excitement and re- 
straint, her intent gaze, her slowly uttered words, 
affected the girls like electricity ; such was her per- 
sonal magnetism, indeed, that the girls seemed to 
feel all that she even wished to say. 

She drew a long breath. 

“ What I have further to say must be said to the 
culprits separately,” she added. “ All of you who 
during these last months have not done one of these 
things that I have mentioned and especially have 
not been concerned in the last piece of deceit which 
I spoke of — may be excused.” 

There was dead silence. Anxious faces looked 
earnestly at Mrs. Conway. Then slowly, after a 
very evident searching of conscience, one girl and 
another rose and quietly left the room. Mrs. Con- 
way stood motionless with downcast eyes but never- 
theless she saw, and her heart sank to see, that 
Hester Cameron, after one instinctive start forward, 
suddenly settled back in her place, two scarlet spots 


Boarding-School Days. 229 

burning in her cheeks and the white lids dropped 
over her lustrous eyes. In spite of Miss Roberts’s 
story of the night that Hester came down in Ro- 
melia’s place to see Mr. Spaulding, in spite of the 
incriminating note, she had hoped against hope that 
there might be some explanation. 

But no one could see how Hester was clenching 
her hands under her desk, her soul one tumultuous 
rage. That note to Jack Churchill! That one 
hasty, unconsidered action, breaking the letter of 
the law though not its spirit ! She could feel the 
surprised looks of the girls as one after another 
passed her. One or two of her own band hesitated 
and almost stopped, then, thinking that perhaps 
Hester only meant to explain to Mrs. Conway at 
last, slowly went on. 

The humiliation of that moment, Hester never 
forgot. She, the class president, the school leader, 
whose proud young soul disdained deceit, to sit in 
company with Romelia Dransfield and Maud Perry 
and the others, disgraced in the eyes of all! Her 
uncompromising honesty would not let her go, 
simply because she had meant well. She quivered 
to her finger-tips. The matter could never be ex- 
plained away. Excuses never excuse. Her hurry- 
ing thoughts went on; suppose Romelia should 
choose to tell Mrs. Conway and the girls what she 
had told Hester herself, that she, Hester, had seen 


230 


A Nest of Girls. 


Mr. Spaulding that night for her own amusement, 
what could she say beside simple denial ? Romelia 
did not mind a lie and Mr. Spaulding certainly could 
not be called upon to corroborate her statement. 
Hester felt suddenly the helplessness of innocence 
against unscrupulousness. It was all such a tangle 
now! So difficult to explain the matter that had 
looked so beautifully simple at first! Poor Hester! 

She raised her eyes for an instant and saw Mrs. 
Conway looking at her with a gaze that broke her 
heart. The passionate tears welled up to her eyes, 
but by sheer force of will she drove them back 
and steadied her mobile, scarlet lips to their firm, 
familiar self-control. 

The silence grew oppressive after the door had 
closed gently behind the last girl who left. Hester 
did not know the full number of her fellow-defend- 
ants. She had not seen that Valentine, who was 
sitting behind her, kept her seat also, — to Mrs. Con- 
way’s added bewilderment — because her tender con- 
science reproached her, although her share was only 
silence of what she had known. Eleanor Scott, with 
a troubled look at Valentine, had also remained; of 
course, the “ Sin-nics,” and three or four others 
who had done a little flirting on their own account. 

Five endless minutes ticked slowly away. To 
Hester it seemed as if the blood bounding through 
her veins could be heard by all. 


Boarding-School Days. 231 

Mrs. Conway at last raised her eyes and looked 
lingeringly from one burning face to another. 

“ Whenever you are ready to talk to me, you 
may come singly to my study,” she said. ” You 
are excused.” Turning, she left the room herself. 

Hester reached her room somehow, — though she 
never afterwards remembered going through the 
corridors — and locked the door. Margaret had con- 
siderately gone to see Miss Douglas, and left her 
undisturbed till the last minute. When she was 
obliged to come in, she found the door unlocked 
and Hester in bed with her face to the wall. 

As for the other girls whom Hester had left be- 
hind in the study-parlor, they, with the exception 
of Valentine and Eleanor, who likewise fled, re- 
mained staring at each other blankly. Almost in- 
stantly Maud Perry announced that she was going to 
see Mrs. Conway at once and have it over. What 
ever Maud’s faults were, she was no coward. 

“ Are n’t you afraid ?” asked one of the newer 
girls fearfully. 

Afraid ? I ’m so afraid that I ’d run away be- 
fore morning if I did n’t go to-night. I ’d rather 
be cuffed than go!” Maud knew by experience 
what Mrs. Conway’s talks were. 

** Does she scold you awfully ? ” quavered Ro- 
melia, who was in a state of abject terror. 

“No, you idiot! Does Mrs. Conway scold ? I 


232 


A Nest of Girls. 


wish to goodness she would. But if you enjoy feel- 
ing half an inch long and as if you ought to be sent 
out with a nurse — I don’t. I go in and I puff out as 
much as I can but it ’s no use. I come out a little 
squash-bug. Mrs. Conway talks the very pith right 
out of you and the queer part is that you do most 
of the talking. I ’m off, girls. Some one had bet- 
ter be ready to face the music as soon as I come 
out.” Maud’s tone was flippant, for she did not 
know how to be anything else, but she did not feel 
cheerful. 

” Oh, I can’t,” whimpered Romelia abjectly. 
” Wait a minute, Maud. Do you suppose she ’ll 
expel me ? Oh, how will I stand it ! I never meant 
any harm. I only wanted some fun. She ’s no 
business to be hard on a girl for a little fun ! Mak- 
ing us feel as if we had committed some awful 
crime ! ” 

“You should have thought of that before you 
planned your mischief,” returned Maud coolly. 
” I did and did n’t get so deep in. I never should 
have thought of doing what you did. It would n't 
pay.” 

” But you all thought it was awfully smart till it 
was found out,” sobbed Romelia angrily, with 
much reason. 

” That ’s a different point of view, my dear,” an- 
swered Maud airily. 


233 


Boarding-School Days. 

** Probably she will expel you and serve you 
right,” put in Selma Hancock, finding some relief 
from her own pangs of conscience in abusing Ro- 
melia. “ You Ve hatched every bit of mischief that 
has gone on here this year.” 

” That *s an — awful — lie,” wailed Romelia fran- 
tically. “You have all led me on! That ’s what 
they always say at home. ' Romie is so easily in- 
fluenced ! ’ ” 

“Do be quiet, you idiot!” exclaimed Maud. 
“ Selma is right. I never was an archangel, but I 
never thought of doing the things that you ’ve 
done. I hope to goodness that she will expel 

t ’ ’ 

you ! 

“She sha’n’t! she sha’n’t!” howled Romelia 
passionately. “ It would n’t have been any harm 
any way if it had n’t been found out. She ’s the 
meanest, nastiest old thing ! ” 

“Shut up!” ordered Maud furiously. “You 
may do what you like, but you sha’n’t call Mrs. 
Conway names.” 

“ I won’t shut up,” wept Romelia. “ She always 
hated me, and she ’s doing this just out of spite, 
and she is hateful! ” 

“ Say that again and I ’ll box your ears,” cried 
Maud, who could try Mrs. Conway’s patience to 
any extent herself, but who would not hear her 
abused. 


A Nest of Girls. 


234 

Whereupon Romelia promptly said it again. To 
her intense amazement, Maud rushed at her, caught 
her by the shoulders, shook her till her teeth chat- 
tered, and finished with a resounding slap on each 
cheek. 

** There! ” said Maud breathlessly. Now I ’m 
going to Mrs. Conway, and I Ve got one more 
thing to confess, and I ’m glad of it. Come 
on, girls. You can wait in the hall”; and with 
that she swept the others before her, leaving 
Romelia a helpless, furious bundle on the floor. 
Any kind of loyalty, even the queer variety that 
Maud had shown, was an unknown quantity to her. 
Romelia’s slowness scarcely grasped the situation 
till the girls had disappeared and there was nothing 
to do but to swallow her wrath and follow them. 
Sullenly she joined the group waiting in the hall, 
outside Mrs. Conway’s study door, nor was she re- 
assured when fifteen minutes later Maud Perry 
came out, her pretty face swollen and disfigured by 
crying. Romelia’s curiosity so far overcame her 
resentment that she whispered nervously : 

“ Oh, what will she do ? Will she expel us ? ” 

“ Go in and find out,” was all Maud vouchsafed, 
brusquely, as she stumbled away. The others, each 
dreading her own turn, with one accord caught hold 
of Romelia and tried to force her to go in next to 
the tribunal, but the girl, half beside herself with 


Boarding-School Days. 235 

excitement and terror, wildly made her escape and 
fled. 

It was ten o’clock when Mrs. Conway sent away 
the last of the delinquents who came to her that 
night. Eleanor Scott was that one. 

The girl’s clever, pleasure-loving nature was an 
easy enough one to reach, but, Mrs. Conway thought 
with a sigh, a diflicult one to hold. Eleanor was 
intensely repentant for her share of the transgres- 
sions. She frankly admitted everything that she 
had done. Yes, she had been one of the girls who 
had gone out one day to meet Romelia’s cousin, as 
they all thought him. No, she had known nothing 
of that affair. Romelia had told no one. No, she 
had not gone to the foot-ball game. That was going 
too far and she had told the girls so. Yes, she had 
met Mr. Spaulding twice, once alone, and walked 
with him. Romelia expected to come, but could n’t 
get off. She had written two or three notes to him 
just for a lark — oh, she begged Mrs. Conway’s 
pardon for the slang. She had n’t thought about 
the question of honor at all. Valentine had found 
it out and had taken it very much to heart and 
begged her to drop that set. Well, yes, she did 
think it was all very silly, but the “ Merry Chan- 
ters ” got dreadfully cross with her because she liked 
to fool around with Maud and those girls and she 
would n’t be dictated to anyway. At first she had 


236 


A Nest of Girls. 


only pretended to like the Sin-nics ’’ to tease the 
others, and they took it up so — here Mrs. Conway 
reminded her that she only wanted to hear about 
her own share. 

Well, it made me mad,” Eleanor said candidly; 
“ I did some things that I would n’t have done 
otherwise, truly. And Maud and those girls are 
amusing, Mrs. Conway, and I do get tired of being 
good. There ! ” — this with a touch of defiance. 

Mrs. Conway only looked at her with a curious 
little smile, but Eleanor suddenly felt herself grow- 
ing intensely uncomfortable. She was very repent- 
ant, but down in her heart she did n’t think that 
what she had done mattered so very much. But as 
Mrs. Conway looked at her, without saying one 
word, she was all at once aware that she felt pain- 
fully After a moment she grew nearly des- 

perate under that steady gaze that semed to look 
down behind her eyes into her very soul. She began 
to feel little and despicable and utterly untrust- 
worthy. 

Presently Mrs. Conway began to talk to her. 
With vivid words she made her, for the first time, 
see the temptations of her double-sided nature, to 
which both higher and lower things of life almost 
equally appealed. She made her feel how by this 
constant yielding in little things the lower side of 
her nature had been steadily gaining ground so that 


237 


Boarding-School Days. 

she had done things that she frankly confessed 
would not have occurred to her earlier in the year ; 
how the gradual blunting of the sense of honor was 
a natural consequence, “ so that,” Mrs. Conway pro- 
ceeded, “ even when you came in here to-night, 
though you were sorry to have hurt me, you did not 
think it was all of much consequence, otherwise.” 

Eleanor looked up, startled, as the quiet words 
went on. Somehow, she began to feel in a fright- 
ened way, the oppressive consciousness of heavy 
and unavoidable responsibility for her own endow- 
ments. She saw with sudden clearness that she, 
with her clever brains and good home-training was 
far more responsible than Romelia with her warped 
and undisciplined mind ; far more than Selma, who 
had no mother, or Maud, who had grown up petted 
and spoiled, or Florence Elmer, who was a flippant, 
giddy little thing by nature. 

” You have capacities that they have not,” pro- 
ceeded Mrs. Conway. ” You are accountable in 
proportion to your talents and your tastes. You do 
like better things, and they, at present, certainly do 
not. You may all do precisely the same things, and 
you will be more accountable than they. Why you 
are better endowed than they, neither you nor I 
know. It is life and we cannot avoid these facts. 
Ability involves responsibility; and power, to the 
last particle, is duty. It is nothing to plume one’s 


238 


A Nest of Girls. 


self on, but you are bound to live up to your high- 
est self, by every law of life. To do less is base and 
dishonorable.” 

I never thought I was not playing fair,” was all 
that Eleanor said, scarlet and miserable, with con- 
science burning and stinging at every point; and 
when she left the study she felt as she had never 
done before, that she was under heavy bonds to her- 
self to shape her life on altogether different lines. 

When she had gone, Mrs. Conway sat for a few 
moments with her head on her desk, almost worn 
out. It was work that exhausted heart and brain to 
go to the depths of these young natures, when she 
felt so heavily the weight of her own responsibility. 
A false step on her part ; wrong counsel ; too much 
severity or too little firmness ; too much leniency or 
too little consideration ; would set an indelible stamp 
on these plastic minds. All work that aims to set 
its seal on the human heart is paid for in the heart’s 
blood. 

But something else was still on her mind. 

“Oh, where is Hester ? I can’t yet understand 
her share in the matter. Miss Roberts insists that 
Hester went to the parlor that night to see this man 
and that her manner was so peculiar that it aroused 
her attention. What did Hester’s note to Mr. 
Churchill mean ? It suggests so much previous 
understanding. And why was that absurd note of 


239 


Boarding-School Days. 

Virginia’s pinned up in Alec Trent’s room ? Why 
did she never come to explain about that night if it 
was merely an accident ? Why have they not come 
to me ? ” She glanced at the exquisite little bronze 
clock on the mantel : it was long after ten. 

“ Too late to-night to expect her now,” she said, 
with Hester uppermost in her mind. 

Mrs. Conway made her rounds. To go to the 
door of every girl’s room, every night before she 
slept was a duty she rarely either omitted or rele- 
gated. 

As she stood at Valentine’s door, a voice spoke 
out of the darkness. 

“ I have been waiting for you, Mrs. Conway. 
Can I speak to you now ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, dear.” Mrs. Conway sat down on 
the bed and took Valentine’s hand in hers. 

“ I must tell you that I have known about all this 
for a long time, Mrs. Conway,” Valentine said 
quietly. She was not really cowardly, much as she 
disliked to face trouble openly. “ I can’t tell you 
how guilty I have felt for weeks. I could n’t make 
up my mind either to let you know about it or to 
speak to the girls themselves. I thought they 
would n’t mind me. Oh, I wish I had spoken! If 
the very first time that I knew of their going off, I 
had told them that I would tell you, they would not 
have dared to go on. And — and I did n’t do as I 


240 


A Nest of Girls. 


should with Eleanor. I begged her to cut those 
girls, to be sure, but I did n’t say enough about how 
I felt concerning their scrapes. I made her think 
I just did n’t like that set.” 

” Oh, Val! you did all you could to stop me! ” 
came loyally from the other bed. But Eleanor 
knew very well what an effect it would have had 
upon her if Valentine had more vigorously protested 
against the sins and less against the sinners. 

” Yes. Go on,” said Mrs. Conway. 

” T have no excuse, except that I do so hate a 
fuss, and I thought it would all come out right 
somehow.” 

” Wrong things don’t right themselves, ‘ some- 
how,’ Valentine.” 

” I know. I see. But after a little, it was just im- 
possible to tell, for then the question would be why 
hadn’t I told before. I — I suppose I was too lazy, 
and I do so hate a fuss! ” Valentine’s voice broke. 

” Dear, I think you were seriously to blame,” 
Mrs. Conway said, after a moment. ” One can tacit- 
ly condone an action by simply saying nothing, 
you know. You may think your words would fall 
unheeded, but that does n’t change the duty. One 
can never say with certainty that an earnest, out- 
spoken protest will fail of effect. It is selfish to 
say, ' It is some one’s duty, but not mine.’ Why 
not yours as well as another’s ? ” 


Boarding-School Days. 241 

“ I never thought I was being selfish, when I dis- 
like selfishness so much,” Valentine murmured. 

“ You are not selfish as regards either your time 
or your money or your inclinations, as I have often 
noticed, dear, but you are very apt to be selfish just 
here : a disagreeable task that will involve some talk 
or dispute or argument, yet which must be done, — 
is somebody s task, but not yours. It was my right 
to know all this, even if it involved the disagreeable 
duty of telling, although this duty might have been 
softened by any intermediary that you wished.” 

“ So I told — '' Valentine began eagerly, then 
stopped confusedly. But Mrs. Conway asked no 
questions. It was not her way. In this case she 
knew that Valentine’s tender conscience needed 
no further stirring, so with a kiss she left her. 

At Hester’s door, she stood a moment, hoping 
that Hester would speak, but all was silent, though 
Mrs. Conway felt the sense of wakefulness in the 
room. She sighed as she passed on. “ I don’t 
understand her silence, but she will come to-mor- 
row,” she thought hopefully. As for Virginia, the 
moonlight fell full across her face, and to Mrs. 
Conway’s surprise she was unmistakably sleeping 
like a baby. 

16 


CHAPTER XIV. 


WHERE IS HESTER ? 

R OMELIA DRANSFIELD spent the next day 
in the infirmary with a headache. She had a 
headache on every provocation. When she appeared 
after dinner, looking, in truth, whiter and pastier 
than ever, the “ Sin-nics ” fell upon her. 

“You must go into the study and get the matter 
over,” Maud said imperiously. “ All the rest of 
us have been in, and nothing will be settled till you 

go-" 

“ Then she can come to me,” insisted miserable 
Romelia defiantly. 

“ Then we '11 all be in limbo till June, and all 
special permissions recalled, and we won’t stand it,” 
retorted Maud. “ A girl tried to play that trick 
last winter, and would n’t go in about something 
she had done, and we were tied up for a week.” 

“ Tied up! ” gasped Romelia, open-mouthed. 

“ I don’t mean with ropes, you goose,” returned 
Maud irritably. “ I never saw such a lunatic as 
you. Now there ’s no use talking. Get up and 
stop snivelling and face the music like a man. 


242 


243 


Boarding-School Days. 

You Ve had your fun, now pay the piper. Get up, 
I say! ” and the weeping Romelia most reluctantly 
yielded. 

Mrs. Conway sat in a deep, sleepy-hollow chair 
by the open fire in her study, in rare idleness. She 
bade Romelia sit down in a low chair near her, 
where the glancing firelight played on her face. 

“Now tell me everything,” she said quietly, and 
Romelia, feeling that those deep eyes were burning 
down even to her most hidden deceits, wretchedly 
stumbled along. 

She told her story, but she incriminated the other 
girls recklessly. She had written notes, yes, but so 
had Virginia Henderson, lots of times. Her cousin 
had seen them pinned on students’ walls. She had 
slipped out without permission, yes, but so did Vir- 
ginia. She had pretended to go to see Katharine 
Henry, and never went near her but paraded the 
streets the whole afternoon. Mrs. Conway sternly 
bade her keep to the history of her own misdeeds, 
whereupon Romelia burst into louder sobs: “ It was 
always the way! Nobody else was ever blamed, 
no matter what they did, but she never could do 
the least thing! ” 

Mrs. Conway waited patiently. 

Then when Romelia came to Hester’s part of the 
story it became more garbled than ever, yet what 
was told fitted in pretty well with Miss Roberts’s 


244 


A Nest of Girls. 


version of what she had seen in the parlor that 
evening. Romelia managed to conceal entirely, in 
her halting narrative, that Hester was bent on pre- 
venting a repetition of Mr. Spaulding’s visits, at 
least under an assumed name, but she insisted 
that Hester had bribed the maid to bring her Mr. 
Spaulding’s card. 

As the girl’s disjointed tale shambled on, Mrs. 
Conway suddenly seemed to hear again the words 
that she had once overheard : 

“ I guess I can bribe as well as you can, Hester 
Cameron!” She caught her breath sharply. Ro- 
melia was saying that Hester not only saw him that 
night, but that the next time he called he begged 
Romelia to call Hester down, saying that she had 
promised to come. 

It took a great deal of skilful questioning and 
many clever deductions to get the whole story out 
of Romelia, and when the fragments lay all before 
her Mrs. Conway felt sick at heart, for it was so 
much worse even than she had imagined. It was 
Romelia, she elicited after many questions, who 
had stirred up the little spirit of insubordination, 
that had lately been so marked. She had criticized 
the rules, laughed at the regulations, and sneered, 
in her quiet way at all authority. Her usual man- 
ner before the teachers was so silky and so impas- 
sive that most of them thought of her as a quiet. 


Boarding-School Days. 245 

inoffensive girl, rather to be pitied than otherwise, on 
account of her general unattractiveness. 

Romelia came from that interview blind with cry- 
ing. For the first time in her selfish life, Romelia 
Dransfield’s grievances seemed very small and Ro- 
melia Dransfield’s offences very colossal. Her short 
experience of school life previously had been in a 
large public school, among a set of girls who con- 
sidered the only disgrace was to be found out ; who 
regarded their teachers as their natural enemies; 
that one the cleverest individual who oftenest out- 
witted those in authority. Mrs. Conway’s firm, just 
rule, under which her pupils were trained, that liberty 
is not license and that deceit is the unpardonable 
sin, had meant simply nothing to her. Her two 
brothers were at a great school and had filled her 
mind with descriptions of their constant pranks, of 
the devices they resorted to to get through their 
lessons with the least possible amount of study; of 
principal parts written on cuffs and irregular verbs 
on finger-nails. To tell the truth, she had been im- 
mensely disappointed at the quiet, busy atmosphere, 
with the girls looking upon their lessons as their 
main business in life ; where the ones who had the 
best brains and those that worked the hardest were 
the leaders. The great gymnasium, the basket-ball, 
the practising for the exciting contest that was soon 
to be played with Miss Bennett’s girls, she cared 


246 


A Nest of Girls. 


nothing for. Boys and flirting filled her whole 
mind, and as she had no natural attractions like the 
“ Sin-nics," who were all bright, pretty girls, she 
stooped to win in any possible way the attention 
and excitement that she craved. 

Again Mrs. Conway sat waiting, after Romelia 
had left her. 

Surely,’' she thought, “ Hester and Virginia 
will come to me. They are the last.” 

But she waited in vain. 

Meantime the wonder and surprise among the 
girls concerning Hester Cameron’s share in the mat- 
ter, was unbounded. What had she declared her- 
self guilty of by remaining behind that night ? 
Even her own set, with the exception of Virginia, 
did not know, and Virginia had been bound, much 
against her will, not to tell. 

“ I ’ve made a fool of myself, somehow,” Hester 
said bitterly, ” and fools must pay the penalty of 
being fools.” 

No one even knew that she had not been to see 
Mrs. Conway officially. 

The next day a hush of expectant intensity rested 
over the house, but the day wore on and nothing 
was said. Mrs. Conway passed in and out among 
them, with her face grave and stern, but her man- 
ner as usual. The under teachers refused to answer 


Boarding-School Days. 


247 


the clamorous questions of the girls who were not 
involved as to what they thought Mrs. Conway 
would do. Those who were, had no questions to 
ask. The penalty did not seem to matter much 
after their interview, when the deep-searching eyes 
of their principal had laid bare the very depths of 
their girlish hearts. 

As it happened, Mrs. Conway met Virginia the 
next day in the corridor. No one chanced to be in 
sight. 

** My dear,’* she said impulsively, have you 
nothing to say to me ? ” 

I, Mrs. Conway ?” and Mrs. Conway saw the 
surprise was genuine. I always have some sins to 
confess, if you mean that, but I fancied my list just 
now was shorter than usual. It takes so much of 
my mind to keep other people in order, you know, 
that mere lack of time ” 

The drollery of Virginia’s tone was never im- 
pertinent, and Mrs. Conway could scarcely help 
laughing. 

Search your memory,” she said, outwardly 
grave. ” Perhaps there is something of long 
standing.” 

Virginia puckered her pretty forehead thought- 
fully. 

” Honestly, Mrs. Conway, I can’t think of a 
thing. I feel like Topsy, when Miss Ophelia 


248 


A Nest of Girls. 


insisted on her confessing what else she had stolen, 
and she said the earrings which she had n’t touched, 
for the sake of saying something.” 

Virginia’s bright face, with its irresistible sparkle 
of mischief, looked so innocent that the other was 
really perplexed. 

“ It ’s perfectly impossible that the girl has hon- 
estly forgotten ! Is she actually presuming to face 
it out by ease of manner ? ” 

Her face grew stern. 

“ Virginia, you are forgetting yourself.” 

Virginia looked perfectly blank and when her face 
was blank, it was very blank indeed. 

” Indeed, Mrs. Conway,” she said earnestly, ” I 
have no idea what you mean. I cannot think of 
anything very bad, unless” — brightening — ” that 
this morning in the Anglo-Saxon class, I — oh, very 
accidentally ! — made a slight disturbance. I raised 
my hand to — to fix a hairpin that seemed to be 
loose, and I caught my cuff-button on Romelia 
Dransfield’s hair, for she was sitting next to me,” 
carefully circumstantial, ” and I am afraid I pulled 
her hair ^r^’^^fully, for she gave a most horrible 
howl right out loud and Miss Hastings threatened 
us both with the delinquent’s room. I was very 
sorry; indeed, I was; and I apologized to both 
Romelia and Miss Hastings for my awkwardness.” 

Mrs. Conway’s lips curved again as she glanced 


Boarding-School Days. 249 

at the graceful creature who had never made an 
awkward movement in her life. 

“ Come into your room, Virginia,’' she said, for 
they were near it. 

** Can you tell me, child, on your honor,” she 
began, when she had closed the door, ” that you 
have done nothing these last two months that you 
are concealing from me ? nothing that you would 
have me ignorant of ? Have you been led into no 
piece of mischief, however innocent of intent?” 
She spoke earnestly and eagerly. 

Virginia, sobered at her tone, raised her face with 
a look of such unfeigned amazement and ignorance 
of her meaning, mixed with wondering anxiety, that 
Mrs. Conway marvelled. In her own perplexity she 
deviated from her usual method of making the cul- 
prit confess, unaided. 

” My child, you were seen by two different peo- 
ple one evening some weeks ago down on the corner 
of Harrison Street after dark, with one of the stu- 
dents. You had permission to go only to Katharine 
Henry’s. Why did I never hear of this, if it was 
innocent ? Moreover, I myself saw a note with 
your initials pinned upon a student’s wall.” 

The intense look of relief that swept over Vir- 
ginia’s face reduced Mrs. Conway to hopeless 
bewilderment. 

” Oh, is that all!” she cried, so joyously that 


250 


A Nest of Girls. 


Mrs. Conway could hardly believe her ears. Oh, 
I ’m so relieved ! I began to feel as if I had com- 
mitted a forgery and had forgotten the details!" 
She poured out the whole story eagerly. 

“ Truly, truly y I meant to tell you when I first 
came home!" she finished. "You understand, 
don’t you, that all those things coming up, made 
me forget all about it, because it was merely an acci- 
dent, and I did n’t feel very much to blame, beyond 
being careless. If I had planned it, it would have 
been on my conscience all the time," with wistful 
anxiety. " I have such a pig oi a conscience! It ’s 
so greedy of everything I do, that I am nearly 
eaten up by remorse, if I do any bad thing. It is so 
uncomfortable! ’ 

" And the note ? " 

"You could n’t call a thing with only * Dear Mr. 
Trent,’ and some pennies and ‘ Yours very truly,’ a 
notey could you ? ’’ persisted Virginia eagerly. 
" Mean old thing! to go and pin it up on his wall! 
I would n’t have done such a thing! Do you think 
that men have one weeny speck of honor, Mrs. Con- 
way ? ’ ’ 

In spite of herself, the smile on Mrs. Conway’s 
face would have its way. It was impossible to be 
angry with this whimsical child. 

" We won’t discuss Mr. Trent, my dear," she 
said. " I do believe you. You have never shown 


Boarding-School Days. 251 

me a shadow of untruth, Virginia, in the four years 
you have been here, nor a particle of underhanded- 
ness. It never occurred to me that you could have 
forgotten this, as not of much importance.” 

“ Oh, I forget things terribly easily,” returned 
Virginia, with great gravity. “ You see, I had 
nearly forgotten that I had almost scalped Romelia 
this morning. If you will only forgive me for 
everything, Mrs. Conway, I ’ll never do it any 
more.” 

Mrs. Conway went on her way. 

“ Now there is only Hester,” she thought. ” Oh, 
where is Hester! ” 

Quite unconscious of the anxiety she was caus- 
ing, Hester was going quietly about her work. She 
was very silent and all her bright gayety was gone. 
The truth was, that the girl was simply and honestly 
puzzled about the whole affair. The first wave of 
overwhelming mortification at having, through her 
unfortunate note, classed herself with the offenders 
she despised had been succeeded by a state of be- 
wilderment new to Hester. She generally knew so 
clearly what she ought to do! Now, she was only 
conscious she had muddled the whole matter in some 
way. That much was clear. What had she now to 
say, more than she had before ? Of course she 
could tell Mrs. Conway that she had stayed behind 
that night because she had written a note, but as 


252 


A Nest of Girls. 


she could n’t explain it without involving Romelia, 
which she had no intention of doing, why should 
she attempt to exculpate herself at all ? Romelia 
could tell what she chose. She would certainly mis- 
represent the interview with Mr. Spaulding, but of 
course, Mrs. Conway would not believe any of that 
idiotic nonsense. It was all of no consequence com- 
pared to the fact that she, Hester, had somehow 
failed the Head, when she had meant — had she 
not ? — to serve her. 

Day by day the wonder and excitement deepened 
because the penalty was not announced. 

What was Mrs. Conway waiting for ? The girls, 
clustered in groups, discussed it all, in every phase. 
The atmosphere was electric. It never occurred to 
Hester that she was cogging the wheels. She kept 
carefully apart, exchanging few words with any one, 
absolutely refusing to utter a syllable on the matter 
even to Margaret and the others. Even Lorraine’s 
caresses she put gently aside. 

“ Let me alone for awhile, please, girls,” she had 
begged them; “ I can’t talk yet. Something ’s all 
wrong and I must think it out.” 

So the girls, loving and loyal, only shielded her 
in every possible way, and anxiously bided the issue 
with the others. 

Day by day Mrs. Conway’s face grew graver and 
sterner, as she waited for Hester’s coming. Why 


253 


Boarding-School Days. 

did she keep away ? So frank she had always been, 
so quick to acknowledge even the shadow of a fault, 
so free she was from the egotism that shrinks from 
a word of blame, that still the marvel grew. 

At last, after four days, Mrs. Conway sought Miss 
Douglas. 

“ If you have any influence with this poor child, 
send her to me,” she begged. “ This thing must 
stop. The cloud over the house is getting unbear- 
able. I can do nothing till Hester comes to me.” 

Hester will scarcely let me speak to her,” Wini- 
fred said sorrowfully. “ I think that the child 
feels to blame for something else than the obvious 
reason, but yet thinks she can’t explain it.” 

“ I do not want to send for her,” observed Mrs. 
Conway thoughtfully, “ unless she drives me to it. 
It obliges her to say under authority what I prefer 
she should say voluntarily. I am sure she could 
give me some kind of an explanation. I still trust 
her in a way. I do not think she has been more 
than led away, perhaps impulsively.” 

Winifred shook her head. 

“ Hester is not impulsive.” 

“ Oh, I know that does not explain it,” cried 
Mrs. Conway, with a touch of impatience, springing 
from her anxiety. But what else can we think? 
Oh, my poor child ! why don’t you come to me, 
instead of struggling on by yourself!” 


254 


A Nest of Girls. 


But another result had sprung up also in these 
four days. The version that Romelia Dransfield 
had given or implied of Hester’s share in the story 
of Mr. Spaulding, somehow circulated and increased. 
First it went in whispers among the girls in the 
house and immediately crept out in the day-school 
that Hester Cameron had been detected in some 
outrageous piece of deceit ; had invited some stu- 
dents to the school in Romelia Dransfield’s name; 
had eluded detection because — oh, because! She 
was a favorite with the teachers, you know. How 
could she ever have deceived everybody so long! 
She had been so popular! Hush! There she 
comes! 

Dame Rumor, as we are informed, though small 
at first through fear, acquires strength by going; 
soon she raises herself in the air ; she walks on the 
ground and hides her head in the clouds, as bent on 
falsehood and on iniquity as on reporting truth. 

Everybody knew what was flying around during 
those days save Hester and her friends. They were 
known to be such a loyal set that no one ventured 
to question them. As the “ Sin-nics ” were fairly 
sent to Coventry by the rest of the school and as 
Lodema Gathright, who might have borne witness 
to the contrary, was in the infirmary with an at- 
tack of tonsilitis, there was no one interested in re- 
futing the rumors. Yet Hester was really loved by 


Boarding-School Days. 255 

all the girls ; many of them did not actually believe 
the flying hints — “only — it looks queer, you 
know ! ” When were the teens ever tolerant and 
thinking no evil ? Charity is a mantle we purchase 
later in life and we pay a somewhat high price 
for it. 

Hester instantly felt the changed atmosphere ; the 
glances, whispers, the low, eager scraps of conversa- 
tion, that ceased instantly and conspicuously as she 
passed, the careless or conventional greetings, the 
significant smiles ; all these were gall and wormwood 
to her proud spirit. What Judith had suffered in 
the fall when she was suspected of meanness was 
nothing to this, for Judith had known herself dis- 
liked and she had no sceptre to lay down. Hester 
felt this to the core of her soul. The girls had 
looked up to her as a leader and she had had to ac- 
knowledge openly that she was unworthy of leader- 
ship, even though her error had only been one of 
judgment. She felt as if her whole moral cuticle 
had been removed and every slighting glance, every 
half-heard word fell like a whip-lash across the bared, 
sensitive underskin. 

Too proud to give the smallest sign of the hurt, 
she kept close to her work, scrupulous to the last 
degree. Miss Douglas watched her with aching 
love and longing to take the proud, hurt, bewil- 
dered child to her arms and kiss away the pathetic 


256 


A Nest of Girls. 


curves of the sensitive mouth and the half-defiant, 
half-puzzled look in the violet eyes. But Hester 
evaded every attempt at a word alone. She clung 
to her belief that there was nothing to explain. 
What was the use of explaining failure ? 

It was the night of the fifth day, and the girls 
felt as if tension and waiting and suspicion and ex- 
citement had filled their entire year. They could 
hardly remember when things had been different. 
On this night Lodema Gathright came out of the 
infirmary in time for dinner. As there was abso- 
lutely no intercourse allowed between the infirmary 
and the rest of their little world, she had heard no 
school-news during the week of her illness. Indeed, 
it was not till the girls were assembled in the school- 
parlor after dinner that she began to understand. 
The presence of Hester and her circle in their favor- 
ite window kept the excited voices low and it was 
some time before Lodema’s leisurely brain began to 
take in and digest all that was meant. As she had 
gone to the infirmary before any of the excitement 
had begun, there was much to tell and it lost noth- 
ing in the telling. Dame Rumor’s head towered 
very high by this time. Several of the girls who had 
had callers in the reception-room that Friday night 
really thought that they had overheard scraps of the 
conversation between Hester and Mr. Spaulding, 
although in truth, screened as they had been by the 


257 


Boarding-School Days. 

big palm on one side and Lodema and her uncle on 
the other, scarcely any one had even noticed them. 

“ And she said she would come down the next 
Friday night, if she could manage Romelia Drans- 
field all right,” buzzed one girl. They had said this 
till they believed it. 

Who said so ? ” demanded Lodema, trying to 
get hold of the story. 

Hester, of course. Oh, Romelia the whole 
thing, but she said that Hester planned it all and 
managed it and then tried to cut out Romelia, and 
then backed out and Romelia had to bear the 
brunt,” explaining eagerly with bated breath and 
backward glance. 

” Hester planned it ? Romelia said so ? The 
liar! ” Lodema’s rich voice rang out like a bell. 

” Oh, but it *s all pretty well known,” clamored 
half a dozen. ” It ’s certain that Hester ’s pretty- 
deep in. Why, she confessed it herself. Who 
would have thought it ? ” 

” And you believed that little — snake ? It *s an 
outrageous lie, I tell you!” Lodema’s tall, awk- 
ward figure took on height and grandeur. Her 
indignation and her love for the girl she had 
worshipped so long in silence sharpened her wits 
and lent fire to her quiet eyes. 

” And you believed all this?” she repeated. 

” Hester, our Hester, against Romelia ?” 

17 


258 


A Nest of Girls. 


Hester never denied it — ” began some one, 
hesitatingly, but the scorn in Lodema’s flashing 
eyes had its effect. Some of the others faintly 
protested that they had never really believed it all. 

In the high pitch of excitement to which they 
were raised, no one noticed that the voices followed 
suit. Every one of the last few sentences had been 
plainly audible to the “ Merry Chanters” in the 
bay-window. Hester sprang forward to stop them, 
but Judith checked her sharply. 

” Hush ! ” she said. “ I intend to hear this! ” 

“But why did n’t Hester deny it?” persisted 
Camilla Sawyer. 

“ Deny it! ” cried Lodema, wrathfully. “ She ’d 
scorn to deny such a lie as that, if I know her ! I 
was there, I tell you, and I heard nearly every word 
they said. I was ill the next day or Romelia would 
have heard from me, too. Not one of you could 
have been near enough to hear a single word but 
myself! ” 

“You heard ? You ? Really ? ” Here was an 
eye-and-ear witness, and the girls clustered closer. 

I was there and I heard, I tell you. I did not 
know what it all meant, at first, but I thought it all 
out while I was ill, only I did n’t know all the rest. 
Hester was trying to save the honor of the girls and 
of Romelia especially, without bringing it to Mrs. 
Conway’s notice, for she knew that Romelia would 


Boarding-School Days. 


259 


probably be expelled. She ordered the man never 
to return, and he — oh, girls ! he was awful ! so sneer- 
ing and horrid ! he actually begged her to let him 
come and see her— again, all by herself! Such 
insolence ! And then Hester said : ‘ Go out of that 
door this instant or I will call Miss Roberts! ’ ” 

Lodema’s eyes blazed at the recollection. Then 
scorn took possession of her again. 

“ And it was for this, this^ that you have all said 
and believed dreadful things about her! Our Hes- 
ter ! Because she tried not to expose Romelia to 
you or to Mrs. Conway! As if Hester could be 
guilty of anything underhand ! Oh, I despise you 
all! If I had only been here! It 's cruel! But if 
I 'd never known one word of the truth, I ’d have 
loved and trusted her just the same! ” 

Under the lash of her contempt and the scorn 
of her face the girls quivered and shrank. Was it 
really Lodema, the plain, shy, country girl who with 
her loyalty and fine sense of honor was putting 
them all to shame ? The girl, standing over them, 
straight and tall and grand, was transformed. 

“ Lodema,” said a quiet voice behind them, 
breaking the tense silence that followed. The girls 
started, embarrassed and shamefaced. Mrs. Con- 
way was standing outside the group. It opened as 
she advanced. She went up to Lodema, and put 
her hands on the girl's shoulders. 


26 o 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Thank you, my loyal girl. You have given me 
just the bit of the story that I did not know. Hes- 
ter refused to justify herself. You are a friend to 
be proud of.” 

Lodema, shy and awkward, all her eloquence 
gone, flushed crimson and was silent. Although 
Mrs. Conway had heard only the last few sentences 
they had told her all she wished to know, and as 
her eye travelled to the group in the bay-window, 
she took in the whole situation. 

She held out her hand to Hester. The girl sprang 
forward, her whole face aglow, then hesitated a 
moment and turned to her champion. 

” Thank you, Lodema,” she said simply. ” I 
can never forget this.” The tall girl raised her face 
to the taller one, and kissed her gently, before them 
all, with her arms for a moment around her neck. 
Lodema, flushed, radiant, embarrassed, stood in 
glowing, awkward silence. But Hester understood. 

” Come, Hester,” said Mrs. Conway, putting out 
her hand, as Hester turned, and together they left 
the room. 


CHAPTER XV. 


MRS. CONWAY. 

H alf an hour later Hester was still sitting by 
the open fire in Mrs. Conway’s study. The 
low chair that the girls called the “ penitent’s 
bench,” was drawn close to the large sleepy-hollow. 

So you see, dear,” Mrs. Conway was saying, 
“ all these abstract terms need careful consideration. 
Courage — honor — truthfulness — unselfishness — we 
use them all so lightly, with no very definite idea 
of them in our minds. Unselfishness, for instance. 
Broadly speaking, it means thought for others. 
But how ? Genuine thought for their best good. 
Many an unselfish mother, so called, makes her chil- 
dren exceedingly selfish, by sparing them too much. 
It might be the highest unselfishness not to save the 
young daughter from all life’s burdens, but to let 
her take her fair share, while the mother is there to 
guide and counsel.” 

Hester had a sudden and vivid recollection that 
the girls often insisted that she spoiled Lorraine and 
made her helpless. 

** And this word ‘ honor ’ is an equally abused 
term. In the teens, it seems to mean — simply not 
261 


262 


A Nest of Girls. 


telling. As if it were honorable to remain under 
any imputation rather than to betray the real culprit, 
who nine times out of ten is not worth shielding, — 
else he would not allow himself to be shielded.’' 

“ Oh! ” breathed Hester softly. 

“ The simple phase of taking a punishment for 
refusing to tell, when every one knows you are not 
guilty, is quite a different matter, of course. This 
that I mean goes further. Hester, what is this 
word, honor, to you ? ” 

“ It means so much,” said Hester hesitating. 
” I think it is living up to one’s ideals.” 

” Nothing more definite than that ? What 
ideals ? ” 

” Why, ordinarily, it means not doing anything 
underhanded, or mean, or cheating, or, — oh, Mrs. 
Conway! That sounds so absurd! It ’s just as if I 
said we must not murder or steal! Who thinks of 
doing it ! ” 

” What else ? ” asked Mrs. Conway waiting. 

” And — and — never taking advantage of know- 
ledge accidentally learned about other people, and 
never betraying a confidence, nor even referring to 
it unless the other one does first, and being loyal to 
one’s friends and never allowing a word against 
them in your presence, and not thinking about their 
faults and if you are trusted, doing exactly what is 
expected of you.” 


263 


Boarding-School Days. 

Hester had spoken slowly and consideringly, 
reading her ideals in the heart of the glowing flame. 

And what else ? ” 

That ’s a good deal, is n’t it ? Well, then, I 
suppose it means bearing blame when excusing 
yourself would throw it on other people.” 

“ I thought we would come to that presently,” 
said Mrs. Conway, with a tender light in her eyes. 

” It ’s such a common ideal of honor, especially 
among boys. It is not so strongly developed among 
girls and therefore girls are often said to be lacking 
in honor, yet my experience has been that girls 
have a finer and keener sense of honor than boys. 
Of course there are plenty of dishonorable ones 
among both. We must face these abstract ques- 
tions fearlessly, Hester, and think them out for 
ourselves, in order to make them definite to us, 
regardless of the accepted and usually careless 
opinion about them.” 

Hester’s face was an interrogation point. 

” Can there be more than one opinion about 
honor ? ” she asked rather hesitatingly. 

Mrs. Conway considered. 

” I once knew a brilliant young fellow,” she be- 
gan, after a moment, ” who was a cadet in West 
Point. Circumstances threw upon him the blame 
of some wild escapade, of which he was really inno- 
cent, and of which he knew the real perpetrator. 


264 


A Nest of Girls. 


He could not clear himself without fixing the blame 
definitely upon this man. He simply denied the 
charge, but circumstantial evidence was too strong, 
and he was ultimately expelled. Most of his friends 
believed him innocent, but he alone held the clue. 
The other man, a rich, wild, scatter-brained young 
fellow, accepted his immunity at his comrade's 
hands." 

" The sneak! " burst out Hester. 

" Oh, yes, he did not pretend to any sense of 
honor. He had nearly finished his course. He 
had been wild and his father had threatened him 
with disinheritance if there was any further disgrace. 
The young man I speak of knew this. I do not 
know if it influenced him. At any rate, he ac- 
cepted his sentence in silence, merely maintaining 
that he was innocent. Just before graduation, the 
one for whom he suffered met with a terrible acci- 
dent, during another violation of regulations as it 
chanced, and died from the effects of it. Just before 
he died he confessed to the authorities the truth of 
the other story for which an innocent man had suf- 
fered, and begged that he might be re-instated. 
Everybody applauded him for telling — though I do 
not see how he could have done less — and his friend 
for so nobly bearing the blame." 

" Don't you think it was noble ?" asked Hester 
anxiously. " It seems splendid to me." 


265 


Boarding-School Days. 

“ Does it ? There are two sides to most ques- 
tions and this is no exception. Let us be sure what 
we are admiring. The young man I speak of had 
his own way to make in the world, with a mother 
and a sister to be dependent upon him. He had 
been brought up in luxury and a sudden change of 
fortune had swept away nearly everything. His 
whole bent was for the army and he had no turn for 
business, which of course he had to take up. He 
struggled on hopelessly for several years. The 
father of the man whose reputation he had saved 
at the expense of his own, after his son’s death, 
when he knew the truth, attempted reparation by 
offers of any help possible. He indignantly, and, 
I think, rightly, refused all help from that quarter. 
His honor was not for sale, he said. He struggled 
on bravely, but he was absolutely unfitted for busi- 
ness. He died five years later. Here was a brave, 
true, heart, an honorable spirit, a mother’s love as 
well as a sister’s, sacrificed to — what ? to save an 
essentially worthless soul. To have suffered the 
just penalty of his own misdeeds, on the other hand, 
might, indeed, have saved that soul, but mere im- 
munity from punishment could not.” 

Oh, Mrs. Conway! ” cried puzzled Hester. 

I know I am taking untrodden ground, Hester, 
but there is too much sentimentality about these 
questions. I am not even saying that there are not 


266 


A Nest of Girls. 


quite conceivable circumstances where this might 
have been right. But in this case, two human souls 
stood at the tribunal of justice. Why should the 
innocent be sacrificed to save the guilty ? ” 

“ Is it not noble to sacrifice one’s self ? ” faltered 
Hester bewildered. 

“No. Not always. A man is intrusted with the 
care of his own soul. He is responsible for it. He 
must develop it along the lines that God has in- 
tended. He has at least the same duty to himself 
that he has to the soul of another. Suppose that 
two friends of his were the ones involved. He 
surely would be condemned for letting the guilty 
one go free when he knew the truth, if a word of 
his could save the other.’’ 

“ Only it seems so different to save one’s self,’’ 
returned Hester wistfully. 

“ Sometimes I think it takes immensely more 
moral courage to be true to one’s self than to other 
people, according to the accepted code of honor. 
Hester, this was my brother.’’ 

“Oh!’’ breathed Hester softly, taking Mrs. 
Conway’s hand and laying her cheek on it. 

“ What right has a man to allow his fair fame to 
be smirched ? It would be the height of dishonor 
to do this in the case of another. At first we up- 
held him. We alone knew him to be innocent, but 
that to clear himself he must involve another. 


267 


Boarding-School Days. 

Since then, I am sure, I know^ the right course 
would have been the one the world of so-called 
honor would not have endorsed.’* 

Hester’s broad brow held two upright lines of in- 
tense earnestness. 

‘‘ What do you think he should have done ? ” she 
asked presently. 

“ Absolute adherence to the truth is always safe, 
Hester. He should have proved his innocence and 
let the rest take care of itself. It was his right and 
his duty. A human being’s soul demands justice 
at the hands of its owner. But all this has led us 
far afield, dear. The question is, does the highest 
honor necessarily consist in not telling and shielding 
some one else. And remember, my girl, I am not 
saying there are not countless instances where this 
might be right. I am simply claiming that every 
case should be considered on its own merits.” 

” I am in a dreadful state of confusion,” hesi- 
tated Hester. 

“You do not quite see that it was your duty to 
have told me about Romelia Dransfield, and not 
have tried to manage it yourself,” smiled Mrs. 
Conway. 

“ Oh, I see it abstractly,” admitted Hester, the 
color flooding her cheeks, “ but ” 

“ But you do not quite see how you could h2.vQ. 
told ? Let me see. You found out that there was 


268 


A Nest of Girls. 


serious mischief going on which would affect the 
honor of the school. Did the idea occur to you 
that this is my school and that I am more vitally in- 
terested in it than any one else can be ? ’' 

Hester drooped her scarlet face. 

Valentine said so, but I thought I knew best.*' 
“ Was there not a sense of honor due mef 
“ Oh, Mrs. Conway! and I truly meant to save 
you! ” the words were barely audible. 

“ Only to save me, dear ? Was there not a shade 
of pride of power and the fascination of ordering 
events ? Is n’t that always the pitfall for your clear 
head and strong will?” She hesitated, for she 
could not bear to hurt the child she loved best. 
But Hester was a girl who had few surface faults 
and the out-of-sight ones were in danger of getting 
a perilously deep root. A leader she must always 
be, but a leader for right’s sake not for self’s. But 
Mrs. Conway knew the staunch, true heart she was 
dealing with and she knew too that drastic measures 
are generally more merciful in the end; she must 
not spare the knife to save herself. 

” Be honest and look deep into your own heart, 
sweet. Was there not pride, was there not self- 
confidence, was there not love of approbation ? Put 
out of mind that I ought to have been considered, 
and see if your first thought was not ‘ I can manage 
this,’ ‘ I can control the girls,’ ‘ I can stop Mr. 


Boarding-School Days. 269 

Spaulding’s visits by my own word.’ Was it not 
so, Hester ? ” 

As the very words she had used came back to her, 
stripped of their gloss of honor, and of consideration 
for Mrs. Conway, Hester, with a start of horrified 
recognition of her own unsuspected motives, dropped 
her face in her hands to hide the rare scalding drops 
that welled to her eyes. Natures like hers rarely 
have the outlet of tears. 

I was to blame! Oh, I was to blame! ” 

It was the instant Mea Culpa cry of a nature strong 
enough to face the ugly sight of her own faults 
without one instant of paltering or excuse. 

There was a long silence. Presently Mrs. Conway 
broke it. 

** Do you remember what Wordsworth said ? 

“ ‘ Say, what is honor ? ’T is the finest sense 

Of Justice which the human mind can frame, 
Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim, 

And guard the way of life from all offence 
Suffered or done.* 

** Hester, many times honor may demand silence, 
but you must be sure that justice is not outraged, 
for that is a higher law than honor. And ‘ each 
lurking frailty ’ has such a cunning way of disguising 
itself in the garb of fine motives that one must look 
close to detect the masquerade. These are some of 
your special temptations, my little girl.” 


A Nest of Girls. 


270 

Hester could not speak. 

“ And did you not realize, in writing this note to 
Mr. Churchill ” — Mrs. Conway touched it as it lay 
on the table, for she and Hester had duly discussed 
it — “ that you were doing precisely the same thing 
that you were blaming so hardly in Maud and the 
rest ? ” 

Hester shook her head mutely. It had not oc- 
curred to her. 

'‘You have studied Ethics,” Mrs. Conway went 
on, “ quite enough to know that any general rule 
may be broken if the breaking of it serves the 
public good more than keeping it. But one must 
be very sure of one’s ground before one takes 
this risk, if one would be held blameless. The 
blind obedience of a Casabianca is not the highest 
obedience, as you know, — but, in this case, do 
you think you were quite justified in breaking the 
rule ?” 

Again Hester could only shake her head. 

“ Let us come back to our first point, now, which 
is, that / should be informed of any flagrant mis- 
chief. That is a point to study a little in order to 
strike the balance between mere tale-bearing and 
spying, both of course inadmissible, and the ne- 
cessity of keeping good order.” Mrs. Conway lay 
back in her chair as she spoke and watched the 
firelight. “ I have every sympathy with your 


271 


Boarding-School Days. 

thinking it ‘ mean ' to report a schoolmate to me. 
I perfectly well realize it would be impossible for 
you. Possibly I should have acted as you have, 
when I was your age.” The tender touch of Mrs. 
Conway’s hand on her hair was balm to Hester’s 
sore spirit, as she said this. “ I appreciate and 
fully approve the high standard of honor you girls 
have set, and I know how much you have done to 
maintain that standard in the school. 

“ Now as long as this influence can be extended 
among your classmates, outside people not being 
brought in, you are entirely justified in the course 
you have taken. You girls can do far more in many 
ways to help each other than I or any teacher can 
do for you. When girls persistently frown down 
every form of underhandedness and deceit in daily 
life, in recitations, in examinations, as you all do, 
others, whose standard is at first less high, will soon 
live up to you. Your scorn and ridicule of each 
other are not to be lightly faced. If one finds 
that underhanded methods only arouse contempt, 
they are soon dropped. But as soon as anything 
outside enters in, the matter passes out of your 
province.” 

Hester raised her face, but she said nothing. 

Yes, I know,” answered Mrs. Conway pa- 
tiently. ** I know perfectly well that you could 
face anything better than the imputation of being a 


272 


A Nest of Girls. 


‘ sneak ' or * telltale/ but sometimes, you see, in 
preserving the appearance of honor, the essence es- 
capes. Within certain limits, you are quite right. 

What you should have done, I think, is this. 
At your first discovery of this affair of Romelia 
Dransfield’s, which is a far more serious matter 
than you dear girls can realize, a hint to one of 
the teachers — under bond of secrecy as to your 
name, if you liked, would have insured the matter 
being reported to me, looked into and stopped at 
once. It would be possible for this thing to go on 
for some time in any school quite undetected by 
the teachers, while the other pupils and even out- 
siders might know all about it. You should have 
put yourself a little more thoroughly in my place, 
Hester, in trying to save me.” 

“ Mrs. Conway, I seem to have thought of noth- 
ing but myself in the whole affair,” said Hester 
brokenly. “ And we girls felt so disdainful of that 
whole set ! And — and — we wondered that you have 
been so patient with them all winter.” Hester 
jerked out the last words. 

Mrs. Conway smiled rather pathetically. 

And criticised me a little ? You would not 
allow such things a moment ? ” 

'' I 'm afraid so,” groaned Hester. “ Oh, how 
can you be so patient ? ” she burst out impulsively. 
“ I know it always works out better, for we Ve 


2 73 


Boarding-School Days. 

always had to confess that you were right, but how 
can you wait till just the right time before saying 
one word. Think of your waiting for me all this 
week, and not expelling us all on the spot ! ” 

Again that sad little smile touched Mrs. Conway’s 
lips and an absent look crept into her eyes. It had 
been a hard school in which she had learned pa- 
tience. There swept over her the memory of her 
own petted, luxurious childhood, her eager, impet- 
uous girlhood, with its lofty ideals and high am- 
bitions, the enthusiastic visions of the teens of 
reforming the world, her quick scorn of the low and 
her undisciplined impatience of wrong, and the 
restless haste of a passionate, highly strung nature. 
Then had come the loss of fortune, and, close on the 
heels of that, her brother’s disgrace in the eyes of 
the world. Then, a little later, were those two 
ideally happy married years, and then, without an 
instant’s warning, came the blow that had swept 
away her husband and her year-old baby, and had 
flung her, a childless widow of twenty-three, for a 
second time on the world’s mercy. Life’s sharpest 
lessons, sternly enforced, had taught her the con- 
trolled patience, the undisturbed tranquillity, the 
unruffled toleration, the calm ability to wait, of one 
who has weathered many storms. 

She roused herself and touched Hester’s cheek 
lovingly. 

i8 


2 74 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Youth does not know how to wait,” she said 
softly. ” Perhaps it would not be youth if it did. 
Sometime you will learn the wisdom of my way, 
which is merely the way of experience. You see, 
in the present matter you felt the entire responsi- 
bility, and wanted to manage it all at once. Do 
you know that fine poem of Jean Ingelow's, her 
best, I think, ‘ Monitions of the Unseen ’ ? Read 
it, Hester, and see if it has a message for j/ou/* 

There was silence again. Then Mrs. Conway 
said : 

” Dear, our hour is over. Have you said all to 
me that you wished to say ? ” 

” No, Mrs. Conway,” answered Hester, raising 
her violet eyes, still heavy with tears, ” for I never 
can say all I feel about my pride and conceit and — 
and egotism in this matter. I won’t ask you to 
forgive me, for even if you did, I never could for- 
give myself.” 

She rose as she spoke, controlling her voice by an 
effort. 

Mrs. Conway rose also and took both Hester’s 
hands in hers. 

” Then I ‘ must lay forgiveness at your feet and 
plead with you to raise it,’ ” she said gently. 

Hester — ” she hesitated, then drew the girl ten- 
derly to her arms and kissed her eyelids in the sweet 
Southern fashion. 


Boarding-School Days. 275 

** My darling,” she said brokenly, “if it had 
pleased God to spare me my baby, I would have 
had her grow up just such a one as you.” 

With one more kiss, directly on the girl’s lips, she 
let her go. 

Hester, awed beyond all words, caught Mrs. Con- 
way’s hand and kissed it impulsively. 

” Oh, Mrs. Conway!” she cried longingly, ” I 
pray God I may be such a woman as you 1 ” 

The door closed softly behind her, and Mrs. 
Conway sank back in her chair with the deep physi- 
cal exhaustion incident upon the nervous excite- 
ment which exacts its payment from those who must 
influence their fellow-beings. Not for years had 
the name of her baby daughter passed her lips, but 
something in the intense violet blue of Hester’s eyes 
had brought back with such vivid bitterness those 
baby eyes over which she had passionately kissed 
down the waxen lids twenty years before that her 
old sorrow waked and stirred with its double pang 
of unavailing longing. 

The next evening the girls were again con- 
vened in the study-parlor at eight to hear the 
summing-up and the penalty. The air had been 
so charged the last week that it was a relief even 
to the offenders to face the sentence whatever it 
might be. 


276 


A Nest of Girls. 


They took their places silently and apprehen- 
sively. Mrs. Conway and all the faculty were 
already assembled. The principal stood by the 
table, straight and tall, her grand figure looking 
more like a Juno than ever. Her face wore the 
stern gravity that had rested on it all the week. 
Her eyes were heavy and showed the traces of 
sleepless nights. 

She began to speak. 

To the last day of their lives, the little audience 
before her never forgot that ten minutes’ address. 
The full musical voice with its peculiar, vibrating 
quality, thrilled the young hearts to the uttermost, 
as they listened to one whom they knew to be bat- 
tling with all her mind and soul and strength against 
whatever was unfaithful and base and dishonorable 
in their little world. They realized as they had 
never realized before, that these were not the cold, 
serene words of one standing aloof on secure hights 
of virture to give advice to those who were striving, 
struggling, and sinning on the plains below, but the 
eager clarion call of a captain who herself led the 
way where she would fain have them follow ; of a 
leader who was fighting for them and with them and 
who was calling upon them to help her and them- 
selves and one another. Deep into their plastic, 
impressionable minds sank the ringing tones of that 
tender, thrilling voice, making them feel as never 


Boarding-School Days. 


277 


before that life is no Fool’s Paradise, no Vale of 
Enchantment, but a battle of deadly earnest, where 
each must fight whether she would or not, and 
where the issue is eternal life or death. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE SENTENCE. 


S the marvellous voice ceased, a silence so tense 



/A that it could be felt rested on the room. She 
had flung out her hands with the fervor of last words, 
and every separate person seemed to feel the warm, 
eager, strengthening clasp of one whose mission it 
was to warn, to guide, to save. 

After a moment’s pause she spoke again. Into 
her voice now there crept the inexorableness of the 
judge, as she read from a paper she took from the 
table, a list of names. First came those whose re- 
ports had fallen off markedly since Christmas in 
work and deportment and who had confessed them- 
selves guilty of minor infractions of the rules. 
These were remanded to the delinquents’ list for 
two months. This meant being almost constantly 
under a teacher’s supervision, and doing all their 
studying in the study-parlor and none in their rooms. 
Then came the names of Maud Perry and the other 
“ Sin-nics,” including Eleanor Scott. These hav- 
ing brought disgrace on the fair fame of the St. 
Ursula girls, were not only put on the delinquents’ 
list, but forfeited all claim to any special permis- 


Boarding-School Days. 279 

sions whatever for the rest of the year. Next, for 
the school in general, the Friday evening recep- 
tions would be discontinued for the remainder of 
the quarter. 

At last came Romelia Dransfield’s name, and 
after it a dead pause. When Mrs. Conway broke 
it, her voice was very low and her eyes were down- 
cast. There was something that always affected 
the girls powerfuly in this downward glance, char- 
acteristic of their principal when anything painful 
was to be said. It was as if she put herself so com- 
pletely in the place of the offender that the disgrace 
seemed her own. 

“For the first time in an experience of eighteen 
years,” she said, “ an act of flagrant deceit, involv- 
ing the good name of the whole school, has been 
committed. Under false pretences, a man of known 
worthless character has been not only once but 
many times admitted as a guest in the school. The 
planning of this was but one piece of deceit out of 
many. A first deception is sometimes pardonable ; 
succeeding ones, never. The penalty in this par- 
ticular case is not affected one iota by the fact that 
the imposition may bring more serious trouble in 
its train than you, my girls, in your inexperience, 
can understand. On the other hand, the fact that 
the offender is penitent cannot affect the decision 
reached. In some cases, repentance is useless, save 


28 o 


A Nest of Girls. 


for the conscience of the offender. Before we act, 
not after, is the time to consider the consequences, 
lest it be said of us as of one of old, ‘And he found 
no place for repentance, though he sought it care- 
fully with tears.’ 

“ Deceit is a leaven so poisonous that I dare not 
risk its results among you. Romelia Dransfield, 
who by her own confession as well as by all the cir- 
cumstantial evidence has been at the root of all the 
evil of dissimulation this winter, will . not return 
after the present quarter. 

“To all my pupils, who through this difficult 
time have stood loyally on the side of faith and 
honor and have bravely upheld the standard of 
right-living, even though with some misdirected zeal 
and courage, I sincerely offer my thanks from my 
very heart, gladly paying a tribute to this loyal band. 
God bless my girls and make them His forever! ” 

In perfect silence the girls scattered to their 
rooms. Romelia Dransfield, like one dazed, went 
with the rest. She scarcely seemed to take in her 
sentence, and when she did she put on an air of 
bravado. She hated the school anyway, and had 
n’t intended to come back, she insisted to her 
roommate. But much later in the night, she sud- 
denly burst out into wild sobbing and crying and 
protestations. 


Boarding-School Days. 


281 


“ I told Mrs. Conway I was sorry and I would n’t 
do it again,” she shrieked over and over. ” She 
has n’t any right to turn me out! I won’t go! 
They ’ll all say at home that Romie never did 
anything bad before! ” 

Miss Roberts, whose room was nearest, presently 
went to her and tried to quiet her. Finding the 
girl, however, wrought up to such a pitch of excite- 
ment that she could do nothing with her, she reluc- 
tantly went for Mrs. Conway. The latter was still 
sitting in her dressing-gown before the fire, though 
the clock was on the stroke of one. 

” I will come,” she said, in response to Miss 
Roberts’s report, lifting a face so tired and white 
that Miss Roberts suddenly felt an absolutely ven- 
omous feeling for Romelia. ” Poor child! ” 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Conway, don’t come, after all ! Let me take 
her something to quiet her. I am so sorry I came 
for you, only your orders are so strict. It is nothing 
but a fit of hysteria. She has no self-control.” 

” Oh, no indeed. I will go myself. I can quiet 
her.” 

” But at such cost to yourself! ” urged Miss Rob- 
erts. ” That wretched little thing is n’t worth it.” 

”Oh, yes she is,” returned Mrs. Conway quietly. 
She took some bromide from a tiny medicine-cab- 
inet, and fastened the girdle of her blue, satin-lined, 
eider-down dressing-gown. 


282 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Don’t stay up, Miss Roberts. Thank you for 
coming, for me. Oh, you careless body! That 
wrapper is not thick enough for these draughty 
halls. Go straight to bed, please.” 

” Oh, Mrs. Conway! How these girls drain your 
very heart’s blood! ” said Miss Roberts wistfully. 

Mrs. Conway smiled rather wanly. 

” Is there any good work done, the price of which 
is not one very heart’s blood, I wonder ? ” 

She found Romelia still shrieking and sobbing 
and throwing herself about, while her frightened 
little roommate sat up in her own bed, helplessly 
crying and clasping her knees. She told the child 
to lie down and go to sleep and turned down the 
lights. Then in her quiet voice that had lost none 
of its power for its weariness, she made Romelia by 
the mere force of will stop her cries long enough to 
take a draught she had brought her. 

Just how she accomplished it. Miss Roberts, wait- 
ing in her room across the hall, marvelled, but 
twenty minutes later Mrs. Conway noiselessly went 
down the corridor and Miss Roberts, slipping across 
the hall to peep in, in wonder saw Romelia, with 
her swollen, tear-stained face showing plainly in the 
dim light, lying fast asleep. 

“It is perfectly marvellous to see how that wo- 
man acquires influence over the girls,” she sighed. 

How does she do it ? I always feel that she ought 


Boarding-School Days. 283 

to be much stricter with them than she is and it frets 
me that she does not correct them oftener — yet 
somehow when she does — oh, I suppose I nag at 
them too much! Yet I do want to help them.'* 
Late as it was Miss Roberts sat down in her chair 
and meditated. She knew well enough that the 
girls disliked her, that they sometimes made fun 
of her and disregarded her mandates when they were 
not sheltered by the authority of her position. It 
hurt her, for when did dislike ever fail to wound its 
victim ? She was a conscientious woman, but the 
girls declared that she loved to be hateful and spy on 
them and they did not see the fussy conscientious- 
ness that was at the bottom of much of her nagging. 
She did not in the least understand the reason of 
her unpopularity, for she knew she would do any- 
thing for any of the girls to help them out of real 
trouble. Time and again she had given up her own 
comfort and convenience to assist some slow or 
blundering girl. Yet if she joined a chattering 
group, the conversation soon dropped and the girls 
melted away, all but the unlucky one who was 
directly addressed. That the girls dreaded her 
satirical tongue or her bright, cutting speeches 
never occurred to her. Her bark was so much 
worse than her bite that she did not realize that 
other people could not know that. She did not 
wonder that the girls loved Miss Douglas as they 


284 


A Nest of Girls. 


did, for she ungrudingly acknowledged her charm 
and beauty; or that they were fond of Mademoi- 
selle, who was merry and smiling and funny; or 
Miss Hastings, who was clever and bright and rather 
handsome. But even that fat, plain Miss Barton, 
who had the science classes was more popular than 
she herself. And she knew she was not without at- 
traction, too. She was a well-dressed little woman, 
with a compact little figure ; she loved pretty things, 
and always had them about her; even her face, 
though sharp, was delicate and refined in outline. 

She began to go over, slowly, the events of the 
last few weeks, most of them trifling in themselves. 
She remembered how often she had longed to have 
Mrs. Conway pounce down on some offender at 
once; how she had never for a moment thought 
there might be even the slightest excuse for Virginia 
that famous day, or for Hester’s manner the night 
she came down to see Mr. Spaulding, or for the note 
she picked up, of Hester’s, or for a hundred other 
things that proved harmless, while she had never 
even seen the real mischief which Mrs. Conway had 
felt in the air, and which she was so patiently un- 
ravelling. Had she strained at a gnat to swallow a 
good-sized camel ? She had been nearly two years 
at St. Ursula’s, and she was suddenly aware that 
she had always attributed the fine results of the 
training there to good luck rather than to good 


Boarding-School Days. 285 

management. And yet now — was there a girl in 
school that was not better for Mrs. Conway’s pa- 
tience and firmness and wisdom of love ? 

Miss Roberts sat and pondered till she was sud- 
denly conscious that it was three o’clock and she 
was shivering. Then she went to bed. 


CHAPTER XVIL 


BASKET-BALL. 

I T was a little difficult to settle down again after 
the excitement was over. Romelia Dransfield 
spent another day or two in the infirmary and came 
out in a most subdued and meek frame of mind. 
To be sure she assumed the role of a martyr, but 
then Romelia never could be quite natural. 

Fortunately there was at hand now the excite- 
ment of the basket-ball match for which they had 
been practising all winter, in the great gymnasium 
which extended across the whole building under the 
roof. They were to play against Miss Bennett’s 
girls on Washington’s Birthday which was only a 
week off. Virginia Henderson was captain, in place 
of Eleanor Scott, who had forfeited her position. 
Eleanor was broken-hearted, for she was very ath- 
letic and loved the game, but she took her punish- 
ment quietly. The proscribed girls were not even 
to be allowed to go to the game, but they all knew 
this was simple justice. The girls were very re- 
pentant about Eleanor, for they all felt that they 
owed her much reparation. They sought her out 
in every way, and their gentleness and consideration 
286 


28; 


Boarding-School Days. 

helped her over a very hard time. Virginia, who 
stood next in line, at first refused to succeed her as 
captain, but neither Mrs. Conway nor Eleanor would 
hear of this. 

** It was my own fault,*' Eleanor insisted, “ and 
so I ought to have no favor. I thought I could 
play with pitch and not get my fingers soiled, and 
it ’s just as well that I found I could n't.” 

But losing Eleanor and Selma Hancock, who 
played magnificently, threw much responsibility 
and work on the others, for the substitutes had to 
fall in line. They were the only ones who thought 
there was compensation in all things. Practising 
had been going on ever since October, and all the 
regular team were in splendid condition. The 
match was the theme of every tongue. They knew 
there were fine players on the other side and they 
kept track of them through some of the day 
scholars, who, having friends at Miss Bennett’s, 
sometimes went to watch the practising, and com- 
pare the strength of the respective teams. The St. 
Ursula girls felt that they must win or die, for 
their school had lost the game the two preceding 
years, and life would not be worth living if they 
did not bring the scarlet banner of victory back 
with them to decorate the walls of their gymnasium 
till the next contest. 

The two schools were always on friendly terms. 


288 


A Nest of Girls. 


and the good-natured rivalry between them ran 
high. Miss Bennett had once been one of Mrs. 
Conway’s teachers and when the latter’s school was 
growing larger than she wished — for she would 
never receive over thirty-five — she had started Miss 
Bennett, and had sent her her own overflow till she 
was well established. In many things the two 
schools shared. The Chemistry classes went to- 
gether once a week to the Chemical Laboratory at 
the College to special lectures given by the Pro- 
fessor of Chemistry. They shared lectures on 
Astronomy in the same way, and any other special 
work that came up. They gave each other a recep- 
tion every year. Miss Bennett’s girls receiving on 
Hallowe’en and St. Ursula’s on Decoration Day. 
They often had some special Saturday excursion 
together. If a particularly good paper in Literature 
or Ethics or Psychology was handed in, it might be 
sent over to be read before the members of the cor- 
responding class in the other school. This was re- 
garded as a very high honor indeed, and made the 
clever writer carry her head very high for a few days, 
modestly dreaming of a most rapid ascent up the 
ladder of fame. 

The twenty-second actually came at last, to the as- 
tonishment of everybody, considering the clogged 
feet of the last week. The large gymnasium was 
beautifully decorated and a very excited and enthus- 


289 


Boarding-School Days. 

iastic audience filled the gallery. The players were 
so evenly matched that for some time victory was un- 
certain whether to perch on the old-gold banners of 
St. Ursula or on the green-and-white ones of the 
other side, but it was Judith Champney’s brilliant 
play that finally decided her and saved the day for 
St. Ursula’s. 

Such hurrahings and clappings and shouting and 
waving of old-gold silk, as followed! Such con- 
gratulations and cheers! But the other side took 
their defeat composedly, after the first disappoint- 
ment was over, for was not such a defeat almost a 
victory ? Yet it was dreadfully hard to lose the 
lovely scarlet banner with its white and gold em- 
broidery that for two years had been draped on the 
wall of their gymnasium. 

Never mind! It ’s only for a year,” said one 
of the opposing side, patting the silken folds lov- 
ingly, as they hung over the captain’s arm. Virginia 
hugged it tight. 

” Don’t flatter yourself, miss! Say a longer 
good-by than that. We ’ll hang on like grim death 
now. And we have fine players coming on — you ’ll 
see! — next year! ” 

Hester and Judith, who both had played, were 

standing by and they gripped each other’s hand 

hard with a sudden wave of the same thought. Next 

year ! It meant more every day to them, this last 
19 


290 


A Nest of Girls. 


year of sunny, sheltered school life. Next year would 
come the dreaded Freshman days, when they would 
have to drop from being at the head of everything 
to the nothingness of despised little Freshmen! 
All these dear, comfortable surroundings that they 
had learned to love would be behind them ; those 
on whom they had leaned — Mrs. Conway, whose 
personality seemed to them like a strong, warm, 
steady hand to grip hold of hard in time of trouble. 
Miss Douglas, whom they had learned to love with 
all their girlish hearts — and each other. 

For they were all to separate. Judith had elected 
Bryn-Mawr and Hester, Wellesley, while Eleanor 
Scott had been booked for Vassar since she was a 
baby, as it was her mother’s college. Katharine 
Henry was to be a special student at Smith. Mar- 
garet, however, fortunately for Hester, was going 
to Wellesley for music. 

The girls straggled slowly homewards, by twos 
and threes, for it was only a short two blocks to 
Miss Bennett’s school. 

“ Just think of never playing any more basket- 
ball for dear St. Ursula’s! ” sighed Hester, giving 
voice to her thought as she and Judith walked along 
together. It was as mild and soft as an April day 
and it was delightful to saunter slowly in the gather- 
ing twilight. “ Next year we ’ll all be gone.” 

H’m. Yes,” said Judith shortly. ” I want to 


Boarding-School Days. 


291 


go, too, in a way, for I am so anxious to get started in 
my work. Think of four years in college and four 
in the Medical School! Eight solid years yet and 
I am nearly nineteen! I ’ll be a Methuselah. 
Seems to me it takes an unconscionably long time 
to get ready to live.” 

Since we may live to be seventy-five, I suppose 
that twenty-five years is not too much to get ready 
in,” answered Hester slowly. ” Oh, Judith! think 
of actually being fifty years old ! let alone seventy- 
five ! Do you suppose we ’ll really care about liv- 
ing, then ? ” 

” It does n’t seem to me that people as old as 
that have anything at all to live for,” meditated 
Judith, with the calm egotism of eighteen. ” I 
suppose they just get used to life and don’t mind 
doing without all that makes life worth living,” she 
went on speculatively. 

” Oh, you babies! you babies! ” 

The two turned, blushing a little, at the sound of 
the mellow, vibrating voice, with its ring of amuse- 
ment. 

” Oh, Mrs. Conway! We did n’t know you were 
so near! We must have sounded very silly.” 
Hester’s voice was very apologetic. 

” Not silly — only eighteen. Of course you won- 
der what we old folk find to interest us in life.” 
Mrs. Conway came between them and suited her 


292 


A Nest of Girls. 


step to theirs. The girls could not help exchanging 
a glance of admiration as she did so, looking regally 
handsome and commanding in her rich cloth suit 
and soft furs; her eyes were flashing with amuse- 
ment and her skin was as white and her color as rich 
as their own. Except for her snow-white hair that 
was turned back off her broad thoughtful forehead, 
no one would have taken her to be more than ten 
years the senior of the girls she was with. 

** Please don’t include yourself, in what we were 
saying,” said Hester, feeling very small. “ I meant 
really old people, you know, about sixty or so.” 

” I see,” answered Mrs. Conway smiling. ” Let 
me tell you a little secret. I won’t say you must 
n’t tell, for you won’t believe it till you get there 
and see for yourselves. I can’t answer for sixty, 
but when you get between forty and fifty you ’ll 
think it is the loveliest age that ever was, and life 
will be so full of delights that you will only wish 
there were two of yourselves to enjoy it.” 

Hester hastily tried to think of something polite 
to say to conceal her utter scepticism of this state- 
ment. Judith, in spite of her usual respect for Mrs. 
Conway’s opinions, sniffed mentally, though she 
only remarked rather doubtfully : 

” As I never heard that anybody thought the 
right time had come for him to die, I suppose there 
must be something to enjoy at any age. Or else 


293 


Boarding-School Days. 

perhaps people merely get into the habit of living 
and can’t get over it, even if there does n’t seem to 
be much to make live worth living.” 

Mrs. Conway laughed. 

I said you would n’t believe it. If you did, 
and understood it — you would n’t be eighteen. 
But some time, my girls, you will learn that one 
must have a past as well as a future to give one the 
capacity for fullest enjoyment. Some time — ” she 
hesitated a moment, and then added in a tone that 
made both girls quiver at the meaning it held — 
” some time you may learn to say, ‘ Oh, the glory 
of the hurt of life! ’ You may learn for yourselves 
that it is only pain that makes life worth living! ” 

Into Mrs. Conway’s voice had crept an exultant 
note of an experience so far beyond their own that 
for a moment she seemed to take on a strange re- 
moteness as of one whom they were watching on a 
mountain-top. It was part of her peculiar power, 
this of unfolding by a word, a gesture, a glance, 
some vivid picture that seemed to lay bare great 
mysteries. 

Judith caught her breath sharply. With a sud- 
den realization of the fact, she knew she understood 
the words better than Hester. Hester shivered. 
Through the thick, dark, mysterious curtain that 
seemed to drop straight across the pathway of their 
girlhood, they caught, for an instant, a new glimpse 


294 


A Nest of Girls. 


of life’s full, real meaning; of possibilities of suffer- 
ings ; of battles ; of victories and triumphs ; of depths 
of desolation ; of heights of grandeur unspeakable, 
far beyond their girlish ken. 

Some one passed and bowed. The spell was 
broken. The curtain dropped again. 

Mrs. Conway spoke with an instant change of 
tone. 

“ Think! I have not really congratulated you 
yet on your splendid play! I was tremendously 
proud of my girls. How finely Virginia had her 
team under control, although she has only had her 
position ten days! ” 

“ Yes, but as Virginia herself says, it is really all 
Eleanor’s work, of course. Poor Eleanor! She 
does everything well when she chooses! ” 

“ She will always choose, eventually,” said Mrs. 
Conway confidently. “ She has it in her. She 
will see the best and accept it. Judith, you were 
magnificent this afternoon! You saved the game 
yet you never played till this year. How you have 
improved in athletics, dear! ” 

I never cared much for anything in that line 
before,” answered Judith nonchalantly. ” I never 
do anything well that I don’t care about, Mrs. 
Conway.” 

” On principle ?” with some amusement. 

Judith looked a little discomposed. She had not 


Boarding-School Days. 295 

expected to be understood, but she answered coolly 
enough : 

“ Yes, on principle. If I do not like things I 
never do them well; then I will not be expected to 
do them. But I noticed last summer that I was get- 
ting round-shouldered, so I determined to go in for 
athletics more.” 

” You funny thing ! ” cried Hester, bending for- 
ward to look at her. “You said you were practis- 
ing on account of next year! ” 

“ So I was. I don’t want to be round-shouldered 
next year any more than this, do I ? See how 
straight I am ? ” and she marched up the steps 
ahead of them and rang the bell for Mrs. Conway. 

“You are going to be a credit to me, dear,” said 
Mrs. Conway, apparently irrelevantly, patting the 
girl’s thin, freckled cheek as they entered. Judith 
followed with a glow at her heart that she did not 
understand and greatly resented. 

All the girls had been very conscious of some- 
thing indefinably different about Judith of late. 
Her sharp speeches were perhaps no less frequent 
but she had certainly uttered some unexpectedly 
gracious ones — gracious for Judith, that is. Only 
the day before, for instance, several of the girls had 
been clustered in their favorite corridor window, 
Judith sitting on the floor clasping her knees as 
usual. Lodema, in passing them with a pitcher of 


296 


A Nest of Girls. 


cold water from the bath-room, stopped to speak in 
answer to a gay remark of Hester’s to her. In the 
ecstatic delight that a word of Hester’s never failed 
to send shivering down her spine, she managed, 
with an awkward movement impossible to any one 
but Lodema, to turn the contents of her pitcher 
over Judith’s devoted neck and shoulders. The 
poor girl stood motionless and horror-stricken, help- 
lessly expecting annihilation, but Judith after the 
first howl, threw the skirt of her dress over her 
dripping shoulders, only remarking : 

“ Your arguments are chilling, my dear. Such 
icy emphasis is not needed, I assure you.” 

Then she retreated to her room where she relieved 
her feelings in secret by gnashing her teeth audibly 
as she took off her dripping waist, all to the great 
surprise of Lorraine, who was manicuring her nails. 

” What are you doing, Judith ? Did you take a 
header into the bath tub ? Why did you keep all 
your clothes on ? What are you making such faces 
for ?” 

“I’m chewing up Lodema Gathright,” answered 
Judith, grimly scrubbing with a towel at her wet 
locks. ” She ’s a Baptist, you know, and she tried 
to convert me.” 

But she was particularly gracious to Lodema that 
night, to the girl’s scared and grateful amazement, 
for not long before, Judith had nearly drowned her 


Boarding-School Days. 297 

in a sea of sarcasm for a similar piece of awkward- 
ness. 

The girls went nearly wild over Judith’s fine play 
that night. All personal feelings were swept away 
in the excitement of the possession of the scarlet 
banner again. It was a real trial to the heroine of 
the day, who hated to be fussed over and praised 
and patted on the back, to submit to it all with any 
semblance of patience. She had tried after dinner 
to evade the rush they all made at her, and when she 
was cornered she could not help answering with a 
laughing jibe every congratulation. 

“ Print it all and hang it up on the gymnasium 
wall! ” she cried at last. “ ‘ Judith Champney, the 
child wonder! Wrested a basket-ball game from 
the jaws of defeat! Wax figure of her in the Eden 
Musde! Heroine of a Sunday-school book! ’ ” em- 
phasizing her exclamation points with her gestures. 
“ Put it in the school-room after all, so I can see it 
all the time, especially when I ’m too humble. You 
know I ’ve only one fault, — that I have no virtues. 
If it was n’t for that, I ’d be perfect.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


IN THE CRYPT. 

H ester CAMERON and Margaret Ward were 
out together one Saturday afternoon. It was 
in Lent, and the Seniors were allowed to attend 
Vesper service by themselves wherever they wished, 
provided only two girls went together. This was a 
privilege that they availed themselves of for more 
reasons, I am bound to confess, than strictly re- 
ligious ones and an ardent desire for church. They 
liked the quiet little chapel service, to be sure, but 
more than that was the fascination of the hour 
of the late afternoon. Everything was lovely then ; 
the bare, graceful elm-branches, outlined against 
the sky with its soft, spring blue; the lawns, 
already showing a suggestion of green; the air, 
with the balminess of a late, good-natured lamb- 
like March; the sense of freedom and life and stir 
that comes with the first hint of April. They loved 
it all. 

Hester and Margaret had grown very intimate 
during the months they had roomed together. In 
most respects, indeed, Margaret was more congenial 
to Hester than any of the others of the set, who as 
298 


Boarding-School Days. 299 

Judith had told Miss Douglas, had drifted together 
more by virtue of propinquity and the common pos- 
session of “ braininess than by real affinity. Yet 
the bonds of loyalty and love, knit by close com- 
panionship, thorough respect for each other, and a 
sense of humor — in itself sufficient to account for 
many a friendship, since he is a friend indeed who 
knows when to laugh with us — were close and 
strong and would stand a strain impossible to mere 
sentimentality and gush. 

Margaret happened to like all the same things 
that Hester did — warm weather and open-air sports 
and Henry Esmond and Les Miserables and George 
Eliot and Psychology and Literature and pistache 
ice-cream. Similarity of tastes is the firmest basis 
for a lasting friendship, as every one knows. One 
cannot love above all others — whatever else may be 
his claims — the person who thinks the room too 
warm while one is freezing; who wants to read 
while one wishes to talk ; who prefers to walk when 
one likes to take a car ; who does not appreciate the 
humor which appeals to one; or who does not 
reverence what one adores, no matter how civilly 
he may conceal his preferences. 

The home training of the two girls had, at the 
same time, been sufficiently unlike to admit of end- 
less argument. Margaret had been brought up a 
strict Episcopalian; Hester came of old Quaker 


300 


A Nest of Girls. 


stock and her parents were now Unitarians, if any- 
thing. The home politics were opposing. Margaret 
was the oldest daughter of seven children with all 
the easy-going ways of a member of a large family ; 
Hester was an only child and had to learn to be tol- 
erant of desires differing from her own. Margaret 
had been trained to keep within her allowance; 
Hester had unlimited pocket-money. 

But argue as they would and did about everything 
within their girlish ken, neither ever lost her temper 
with the other. As a matter of fact, each often 
convinced the other of the strength and truth of 
their relative positions and to their great surprise 
found themselves still on opposing sides. All this 
did not interfere with Hester’s worshipping love for 
Lorraine, whose soft, wax-like character moulded 
itself so perfectly to all Hester’s curves and angles 
that it was impossible to realize that she would only 
retain the impression till she was with some other 
dominant personality. There were phases of Lor- 
raine, however, that all her friends were perfectly 
aware that Hester never saw. 

Hester and Margaret walked along slowly this 
glorious spring afternoon, drinking in with keen de- 
light the lazy sunshine and the blue sky and the 
enchanting air with its thrill of coming life. It was 
very warm for the season and it was a relief to throw 
open their coats as they strolled, making the most 


301 


Boarding-School Days. 

of their walk. They were bound for old St. Jude’s, 
in a distant suburb, where Mrs. Conway occasion- 
ally gave them permission to go. It was a lovely 
walk through the residential part of the city, al- 
though the church itself stood upon the very edge 
of a somewhat disreputable quarter. 

When they entered the quaint little church they 
saw, to their surprise that Miss Douglas was among 
the tiny congregation and they slipped into the pew 
she occupied. Miss Douglas smiled and nodded as 
they came in and Hester felt a sudden accession of 
spirituality, or what she took for spirituality, at this 
unexpected proximity. At any rate the service as- 
sumed a new meaning with Miss Douglas’s voice 
making the responses beside her. She was acutely 
conscious of every movement that Miss Douglas 
made, although she purposely sat with her face 
slightly turned away. Winifred touched her hand 
incidentally in sharing a hymnal and Hester sud- 
denly felt a sensation of goose-flesh. 

“ How perfectly silly of me,” she thought im- 
patiently. “ I can put my arms around her any 
time I wish. I won’t be so silly! ” 

Then Winifred laid her hand on Hester’s to at- 
tract her attention and turn over the leaf, and 
Hester fairly jumped. 

Oh, dear!” she groaned. Then she thought 
of Lodema Gathright and turned a vivid scarlet. 


302 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Yes, I have it in the neck! ” scornfully borrowing 
a little Southern phrase from Harvey Sherwood. 

The service was a delightful one, quiet, reverent 
and full of feeling and peacefulness. The dear, 
dignified old rector, with his beautiful, spiritual face, 
exactly suited his surroundings. Winifred had fallen 
into the habit of slipping away here to the Vesper 
service whenever her duties permitted. Once she 
had brought Hester and Margaret, but it was too far 
for them to come often at that hour. St. Jude's is 
a quaint and delightful old church, one of the oldest 
in the country. In it are high, square pews, with 
seats on two sides ; queer, faded tablets, commemo- 
rating long dead Johns and Thomases and Hannahs; 
long, narrow windows, with tiny, diamond panes of 
colored glass ; to match it all, there was at that time 
an ancient little sexton about four feet high, with 
a crop of snow-white haiV and a fringe of bristling 
white beard. With his bow legs, his brown, wrinkled 
skin, like a mummy’s, and the military salute he 
gave every one who entered the church, he looked 
like a relic of the Revolutionary War. He was long 
past active duty, but once upon a time some eccen- 
tric individual had left a large bequest to St. Jude’s 
with the proviso that the quaint miniature of a man 
should retain the position of sexton as long as he 
desired. He had no mind to give up the comfort- 
able salary that the legacy had likewise attached to 


Boarding-School Days. 


303 


the place, and as he refused all hints to make way 
for a more competent incumbent, all that the Vestry 
could do was to give him an assistant, who really did 
all the work and let the little octogenarian keep his 
proud prerogative of standing at the church door 
to greet every familiar face with his funny little 
salute. 

After service, Winifred proposed stopping a mo- 
ment to see the quaint and beautiful old solid-silver 
Communion Service which had been given to the 
church in the time of George II. As Winifred had 
long ago made friends with the unique little sexton 
and had often stopped to chat with him, he was 
more than willing to show all the treasured glories 
of the church, and instantly trotted off to the Senior 
Warden’s house next the church to get the key of 
the strong box in which they were kept. 

There was not only the Communion Set to be ex- 
claimed over, but also many other exceedingly 
quaint and curious relics. Queer old book-marks; 
moth-eaten old hangings; strangely printed, faded 
old prayer-books ; one and all, the old sexton turned 
them over lovingly, and told one curious piece of 
history after another to his appreciative little 
audience. 

“ It ’s a full course in history,” remarked Hester, 
as the last bit was folded away. 

“ Yes, miss, it ’s an eddication. It ’s very in- 


304 


A Nest of Girls. 


structive to get so much eddication. But we had 
another chest full of curioser things oncet. 

“ What became of them ? Did you sell them ? 
asked Margaret innocently. 

He gave her an annihilating look of scorn. 

“ No^ miss,” he said, in his slow, emphatic way. 
” Sell ’em! We ’d as soon sell our rector. You 
see, it was this-a-way. We had a fire here oncet, 
an’ we burned a piece outen the robin’ -room.” 

” What did you do that for ? ” queried Margaret, 
purposely this time. 

Another look of scorn. 

” Well, miss, we did n’t go to do it. You see, a 
lamp was knocked over, an’ the minister’s robes was 
a-hangin’ up yander, right over where the lamp hed 
ben a standin’ an’ they cotched fire an’ things kinder 
blazed up with the carrysene an’ all. T’other chest 
stood right along under where the robes was a-hang- 
in’, an’ we was pretty busy a-savin’ this chest, 
’ca’se it hed the silver in, an’ there war n’t anybody 
to help, only the minister an’ me, an’ he give the 
alarm, an’ bime-by the fire-ingyne come along. It 
was kinder slow a-gittin’ here, for you see, this was 
a matter of fifty year ago, an’ this was a good piece 
away and they did n’t hev no reg’lar bosses to the 
ingynes then an’ the bosses what they gin ’rally used 
hed ben hitched up that day to a stun-wagon. 
They had to onhitch ’em an’ git ’em harnessed up 


Boarding-School Days. 305 

an’ git up here, but when they come the old chest 
was a mask of ruins an’ all that part of the room 
was a-burnin’ an’ they jest a-barely saved the 
church. I was young then but I could n’t hev felt 
no worse to lose my own christen brother which I 
never hed one.” 

” What a tremendous pity the things all burned,” 
said Winifred sympathetically. ” But it was fortu- 
nate the church was saved. It would have been a 
pity to lose this old landmark.” 

” Yes, miss, it was a shame it burned. At first I 
was jest kinder mad at the Lord. But massy! I 
sez to myself, sez I, ‘ It ’s the Lord’s church,’ sez 
I, ‘ an’ He kin take care of it. Ef He likes to use it 
fur kindlin’ wood ’t ain’t fur us to say nothin’.’ He 
hes His ways, an’ I ’m not a-sayin’ as they don’t 
seem mighty queer, twisted-up ways to we folks. I 
don’t feel mad at the Lord any more now when 
things keep a-goin’ kinder wrong but sometimes,” 
the old man ruminated wistfully, ” I would kinder 
like to know His reasonin’s. They seem sorter 
strange, jest to folks lookin’ on so.” 

” What ’s all this odd-looking stone extension 
out here ? ” asked Hester, glancing from the win- 
dow of the robing-room. The church seemed to 
run back into a low stone building, with a sunken 
pavement all around it. 

” That ’ere ’s the crypt, miss. It ’s very old. 


3o6 


A Nest of Girls. 


They used to lay folkses away there, if so be it as 
they died in the winter, you know, an’ lay ’em there 
till spring till they could dig in the ground. There 's 
some little vaults in there, too, that hed folks buried 
in there for good an’ sealed up. But the place was 
opened up last year on account of the city, some- 
how, an’ all the bodies was taken out. It h’ain’t 
ben used fur many a year.” 

” Are they working there now ? I saw some 
workmen come out of there a little while ago,” said 
Margaret. 

” Yes, miss. They ’re a-goin’ to tear it all down. 
They ’ve ben a-clearin’ of it out.” 

How curious it must be in there,” exclaimed 
Hester. ” Could n’t we go in, Miss Douglas ?” 

” We should be off,” said Winifred, ” but we can 
just look down in the yard. Is n’t it curious! You 
don’t see any of this from the front.” 

The old sexton opened a door that led directly 
from the robing-room down to the paved yard, 
which, he told them, had once been a burying- 
ground itself. It seemed strange to think of the 
queer, shut-in spot as the sunny little country 
churchyard that the old man remembered. It had 
been paved over these forty years, he said. The 
crypt ran down one side of the square and a high, 
iron fence shut in the other side from the street. 
There was no entrance to the yard save along a 


Boarding-School Days. 


307 


narrow, flagged passage running beside the church, 
and this was closed at the front by a gate which 
only opened from the inside unless with a key. 
High warehouses closed in the fourth side. 

“ We must not stay,” said Winifred, as she 
slipped a bit of silver into the old man’s hand and 
thanked him. He turned back into the church, 
leaving them standing on the steps. 

The slanting rays of the western sun, redeeming 
even the hard stone and iron, gave a golden beauty 
to everything. 

“ Just one moment,” begged Hester. I want 
to look in that curious place.” The girls ran down 
the steps and peered into the open door of the 
crypt. It was dark after the sunlight without, but 
they could see a dim spot of light far down. 

Oh, let ’s go down there! ” cried Hester. ** Do 
come. Miss Douglas, for it ’s so queer.” 

It ’s nearly six,” objected Winifred, “ and we 
must go.” 

” Oh, we can walk home in twenty minutes easily 
and we can certainly dress for dinner in ten minutes. 
Please — just a few steps! It ’s so delightfully 
Mysteries -of - Udolpho-y. Is n’t it deliciously 
creepy ? Do come! ” 

The two girls, without waiting for an answer ran 
a few steps into the gloom, and Winifred, against 
her better judgment, followed. The passage had 


3o8 


A Nest of Girls. 


many grewsome little alcoves, some of them with 
heavy wooden doors. The girls shivered and 
thrilled and enjoyed it. Faint daylight from the 
entrance made objects barely visible, when they 
were once in, and further down, the dim glow they 
had seen became slightly brighter. Suddenly the 
passage turned a corner and just beyond, a great 
wooden door stood half-open that, when shut, would 
completely close up the way beyond. Hester 
pushed wide the door cautiously, and looked in. 
On a small shelf was an ill-smelling little kerosene 
lamp burning smokily. The workmen had evi- 
dently been busy here, for in the passage were 
spades and pickaxes leaning against the wall. 
Further down, another short passage ran at right 
angles with the one they were in. The air was 
dank and heavy and evil-smelling. They all 
shivered in spite of the thick things they wore. 

What heavy doors ! ’ * the girls cried wonder- 
ingly. 

“ Could they have been afraid of the poor souls 
escaping ? '' asked Margaret. 

Poor bodies, you mean,” returned Hester. 

” It does seem strange, but of course they must 
take precaution against people breaking in,” an- 
swered Winifred. “ Come, girlies, we must go. It 
is too damp to stay here any longer, let alone the 
considerations of getting home before midnight.” 


Boarding-School Days. 309 

See by the moonlight, ’t is most midnight, 
time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago ! ’ ” 
chanted Margaret, who had every nursery rhyme 
that ever was written on her tongue’s end, as there 
were five younger ones at home. 

Oh, please let me just run down that ghostly 
place! ” coaxed Hester. “It ’s so deliciously 
shivery! It ’s like being in the catacombs at 
Rome. I ’ll skip along so fast that I won’t take 
cold, truly.” 

“I’m thankful there is n’t the same possibility of 
our losing our way,” said Winifred. “ It ’s prob- 
ably only a blind passage, dear, with more little 
alcoves. Come, Hester. You may come upon 
some unpleasant sight. Please come,’’ anxiously, 
hardly knowing what to make of a wilful Hester. 

“Yes, I ’m coming, I ’m coming! I smelt the 
air down there, and I ’m convinced that they have 
used the place to store Limburger cheese. I don’t 
want to go down there now. Oh, what ’s that ? ’’ 
She had spied an old brass tablet set high in the 
wall, about a foot above her head, and she tried to 
reach it, by standing on tiptoe, so that she could 
read the inscription. 

“Is n’t this queer! I see the date 1689. What ’s 
the name ? I know it will be something funny.’’ 

Not being able to see, even by stretching well up, 
she glanced around for something to raise her. A 


310 


A Nest of Girls. 


round stone the size of her head lay on the floor just 
outside the sill of the wooden door, and Hester 
pushed it along with her foot to the right place to 
stand on under the tablet. 

“ Just one minute more,” she begged^ ” I 'm 
sure there ’s something worth seeing. I wonder 
why they put a tablet here.” 

With Margaret’s shoulder for a prop, she stretched 
up to see the half-obliterated letters. At the same 
instant, a reverberating crash in their very ears 
roused the dull echoes of the crypt. The ponder- 
ous wooden door behind them had flung itself to- 
gether. The stone that Hester had rolled away had 
been a prop to keep it open. The smoky lamp 
flared up with the concussion. 

How that startled me! ” cried each, after the 
moment of blank silence. Hester, forgetting the 
inscription, stepped down quickly. 

“Ugh!” she shuddered. “How dreadful it 
seems now with the door shut! I ’m not thirsting 
for any more information. Miss Douglas. I am 
ready to go now. I don’t want to play corpse.” 

Miss Douglas was already at the door. 

“ It ’s more than time to go. We should not 
have stayed a moment in this dampness, for — why, 
girls! ” 

The horror in her tone brought them both to her 
side. 


Boarding-School Days. 31 1 

What is it ? ” both cried, for Miss Douglas was 
wildly feeling up and down the door, first on one 
side and then on the other. 

I can't find — any — door — knob! " 

Perhaps it 's low down," cried Hester, stoop- 
ing, but the boards she touched were smooth. 

They stood gazing at each other in blank horror, 
as the really frightful situation burst on them. The 
door was certainly fast and there was no knob on 
the inner side. It was not panelled, but made of 
smooth, joined planks. 

Still they searched frantically for the knob that 
was not there. It was no use. The door was fast. 
The smoky, vile-smelling little lamp only made the 
darkness visible. As long as the door had been 
open, they had not noticed how dark it really was. 
Now the damp, heavy air seemed to settle down 
like a pall. They pounded with their fists and kicked 
with their feet and called and shouted themselves 
hoarse. These foot-thick stone walls carried no 
sound outside. 

" Come, let us explore this little passage, for 
there may possibly be some way out," said Wini- 
fred, at last. " I will carry the lamp." 

She lifted it down carefully from its shelf. Smelly 
and oily as it was, it was their last friend. She led 
the way cautiously. 

The passage was short, with two little alcoves on 


312 


A Nest of Girls. 


each side opening out of it. The same thick wall 
was across the end. Lifting the lamp high, they 
peered into the alcoves. Nothing was visible but 
heaps of rubbish. Spiders and all sorts of evil, 
creeping things scuttled away at the light. Hester 
and Margaret jumped back with a scream ; Winifred 
barely rescued the lamp. 

“ Let us go back,” she said. “ There is evidently 
no way out here.” She led the way to the larger 
passage and replaced the lamp on its shelf. As she 
did so, she noticed with horror that it was not a 
quarter full. How long would it burn ? 

” Oh, Miss Douglas! ” breathed Hester, close to 
her ear, ” how can you ever forgive me ? If I had 
only gone when you called me! ” 

” You poor child! It’s too bad to have the 
gnawings of remorse added to all this! ” patting her 
cheek and trying to make joke of it. ” Please 
defer all such pangs till we are out of durance vile. ” 
I am sure I never knew the meaning of durance 
vile before,” announced Margaret. “ Do smell of 
your glove. Miss Douglas!” And Miss Douglas, 
laughing, saw that her fresh, pale tan gloves were 
reeking with kerosene and her fingers had left a 
smutty smouch on Hester’s velvet cheek. 

” Oh, you poor child! Now remorse gnaws me. 
Yes, this place certainly rivals Cologne with its 
* several smells and seventy distinct stenches.’ ” 


Boarding-School Days. 313 

Hester turned and gave the door another pound. 
“ If remorse would only gnaw it ! ” she sighed. 
Well, Miss Douglas, let us be stoical and go over 
the very worst that can happen to us, and then we 
won’t be disappointed. First, what time is it ? ” 

“ Twenty minutes after six,” answered Winifred 
and Margaret, simultaneously. 

Is that all ? I thought it was midnight. I ’m 
sure we have been here for hours! ” 

” Oh, if we only had those dear pickaxes that are 
dancing a jig just out on the other side of you! ” 
cried Margaret, apostrophizing the door as she gave 
another blow to the stolid planks. 

“ The worst,” mused Winifred, ” is to stay here 
and breath this horrible air till the workmen come 
to-morrow morning. The lamp will last two or 
three hours yet, I fancy. It won’t be an exactly 
enviable experience, for eventually we ’ll have to 
sit on the floor, since we can ’t stand up all night, 
but we ’ll certainly contract rheumatism if we sit 
down. We will put it off as long as possible. Then 
— Oh, children! this is Saturday night! ” 

They grasped her meaning instantly and stared 
at each other with blanched faces. It meant till 
Monday morning without release, with neither food, 
nor water, nor light, in this dark dungeon. It 
meant cold — the cold that was already creeping 
over them and numbing them — and it meant — oh. 


A Nest of Girls. 


314 

what did it not mean ? It was too horrible to 
face. 

Frantically they went over every probability of 
being found. They were of the slightest. Mrs. 
Conway, indeed, had given the girls permission to 
go out to St. Jude’s to service, but she had gone to 
New York that afternoon on business and they knew 
she would not return till late Sunday night. The 
old sexton would only think that they had gone out 
along the flagged path which he had shown them, 
and out through the gate. Who would know where 
to look for them ? There did not seem to be one 
chance in a thousand of any one coming into the 
crypt during Sunday. What reason was there to 
bring any one there ? Shouting or pounding was 
totally useless. The dull sounds, deadened by the 
heavy planks of the door, were lost outside, and could 
not be heard unless some one were well down the 
passage. And — how long could they stand that 
frightful, noxious air that was growing heavier and 
danker every moment ? 

In the face of the appalling prospect, the girls 
tried to be brave. They thought of one expedient 
after another. 

“ Let ’s make a catapult of this stone,” cried 
Hester, stumbling over that object, the hasty with- 
drawal of which was the cause of all the mischief. The 
others caught at the idea eagerly. Inaction was so 


Boarding-School Days. 3 1 5 

terrible ! They raised the stone, all incrusted as it 
was with dirt. They swung it backward and for- 
ward in their strong young hands and dashed it 
against the door. It had no more effect than a 
marble. The massive planks scarcely quivered. 
Yet again and again they tried it. Their gloves 
were in rags. 

The vigorous exercise, however, set them glow- 
yet Winifred was in agony, knowing how 
quickly the dampness would catch them after they 
ceased. 

“ Stop, girls,” she said, when they had flung the 
stone the fourth time, with no result, ” this is too 
dangerous. Stand close together and put my coat 
about you both. It would be fatal for you now, 
all heated as you are, to let this dampness get hold 
of you.” 

” Indeed we won’t take it,” cried both girls in- 
dignantly. ” What would you do ? Is n’t it as 
damp for you as for us ? ” 

” I mean it, girls. I will take off my coat, at any 
rate, for I will pound a little while, and when I am 
warm and you are cooled off, I will take it again — 
perhaps. It is simple common-sense. You can help 
most by doing as I say.” 

She flung the heavy coat that in the afternoon 
had seemed so much too warm for that mild day, 
about the two girls, who stood with arms about 


3i6 


A Nest of Girls. 


each other as they were bidden, inwardly raging. 
Winifred pounded and kicked and kicked and 
pounded, in her turn. At last she desisted, survey- 
ing the blank obstacle with her head on one side, 
critically guaging some measurement. Then she 
said, suddenly: 

‘ ‘ Stand back a little, girls. Give me more room. 

The girls obeyed mechanically. Against the edge 
of the door opposite the hinge side, about where 
she thought the knob would be on the other side, 
Winifred planted a vigorous, flat-footed kick, into 
which she put all her gathered forces. 

Something cracked. Another tremendous kick 
with all the vigor in the heel, and the catch snapped, 
yielded, and the door flew outwards. Winifred 
ignominiously sat down on the ground. 

** Hurrah! ” came the ringing cry from the girls, 
springing forwards to secure the treacherous door. 
Encumbered in Miss Douglas’s coat, they stumbled 
over Winifred, and all rolled out in the dirt-encrusted 
passage in a promiscuous heap. Breathless and 
laughing and half-hysterical, now that the danger 
was over, they extricated themselves, and in two 
minutes they were out under the dear, twinkling 
stars and in the fresh air of heaven. The twilight 
had fallen swiftly. 

It ’s most morning, is n’t it ? ” was Margaret’s 
first word. 


Boarding-School Days. 3 1 7 

Winifred looked at her watch. 

“ Quarter of seven.” 

” I 've heard that a day can seem as a thousand 
years,” said Hester. ” Now I know it. Oh, Miss 
Douglas! look at us!” This was as they came 
around the church into the glare of a street light 
that fell full on them. They surveyed themselves 
in dismay. Hats were dented in, hair was dishev- 
elled and flying, faces were flushed, perspiring and 
unromantically smutty, and gloves were in ribbons. 
Hester, moreover, had torn a long, jagged rent di- 
rectly across the front breadth of her dress. Mar- 
garet’s skirt was half off the belt while her collar 
had burst its button hole and one side was ram- 
pant. 

” This is appalling! ” said Winifred. ” We will 
certainly be arrested as disorderly characters if we 
go home this way. How can we make ourselves 
respectable ? ” 

They drew back into the shadow of the church to 
repair damages as far as possible. Hats were 
straightened, neck gear adjusted, and hair was 
smoothed down, but alas! half their shell hairpins 
had slipped from their disordered locks. Finally 
Margaret let her braid down her back and divided 
her hairpins between the others. Then came a more 
serious matter, for they soon discovered that they 
had not enough pins among them to fasten up 


A Nest of Girls. 


3i3 

Hester’s torn dress, and it was simply impossible 
for her to walk with a gaping wound across the 
front breadth. Margaret’s skirt could be tucked up 
under the belt sufficiently to enable her to walk. 

“ How dreadful not to have a pin anywhere 
about your anatomy!” cried Hester impatiently. 
” I wish everything was n’t hooked and buttoned 
together now-a-days. I never have a pin about 
me except at the back of my tie and I ’ve lost 
that!” 

Suddenly Winifred darted out to the sidewalk. 
Two little girls were approaching. 

“Oh, little ones!” she cried unceremoniously. 
“ This young lady has met with an accident to her 
dress. Have either of you a pin ? ” 

The startled small girls stopped and stared in 
fright at this apparition of a smutty-faced young 
lady suddenly springing out from a dark shadow, 
demanding pins. One of them started to run. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” said Winifred, catching her 
by the shoulder in a way that did not seem so reas- 
suring as it might, in her terror lest they should get 
away. “ We can’t hurt you. You must have some 
pins about you.” 

“ I hain’t,” returned the older child stolidly, 
while she clutched more closely the loaf of bread 
she was carrying under her arm. The lady de- 
manded pins, but who knew what schemes she 


Boarding-School Days. 319 

might have ? She was acquainted with various 
ruses by which she had been made before this to 
yield up her lawful property. 

“ Please look and see,” urged Winifred. ” I ’ll 
give you five cents if you ’ll give me some pins.” 

The child stared with eyes like saucers. Any- 
thing so remarkable as this had never come within 
her ken. The younger child instantly began search- 
ing the sidewalk in a very practical fashion. It was 
probably the only pincushion she knew. 

“ Is their any place near here where we could buy 
some pins ? ” went on Winifred, with a sudden 
inspiration. 

“ Nope. Ain’t no stores at all here.” 

” Here ’s a pin!” cried the younger child, tri- 
umphantly producing one from a crack in the pave- 
ment. A stray gleam had revealed its presence to 
her sharp little eyes. “ Gimme me fi’ cents for 
that ? ” retaining it jealously. 

” Yes, you little Shylock,” said Winifred, taking 
it gingerly, for who knew what had been its last 
use ? ” Now find me some more — or run to that 

house over there and beg some for me,” with an- 
other flash of genius. 

The older child, who had stood squeezing the 
vitals out of her loaf of bread, at the sight of the 
five-cent piece that had changed hands, suddenly 
thrust her charge upon the other and darted across 


320 


A Nest of Girls. 


the street. If so much money was running like 
water she meant to secure some. 

She flew up the steps of the house opposite and 
proffered her request to the maid who answered the 
ring. The door was instantly shut in her face. 
Nothing daunted, she tried the next house. A man 
came to the 1^^ his shirt sleeves. Those wait- 

ing across the street could hear the child’s shrill 
tones. 

** Please, sir, I ’ve tore my dress awful. Could 
you gimme some pins please, to fix it up ? ” She 
displayed a providential rent. 

“ Pin it up ? Oh, that ain’t no way to do,” came 
the man’s loud, good-natured voice. ” Come in 
and I ’ll get some one to tack it up with a needle 
and thread. You might fall down and stick the 
pin into you and get lockjaw. Must n’t ever pin 
things up.” 

” Yessir, nosir, I never do, but please, sir, I ain’t 
never learned to sew,” answered the little thing 
readily. ” Please, sir, could n’t you jest gimme 
two or three pins an’ ma’ll sew it up when I get 
home ? Please,” eagerly. She must get that five 
cents — wealth untold. 

The man felt along the under edge of his vest. 

” Well, here are three,” he said, producing them. 

” Will that be enough ? ” 

” Oh, that ’ll do fine,” she cried, seizing them 


321 


Boarding-School Days. 

and flying down the steps. The man, who had evi- 
dently expected her to adjust the rent then and 
there, stood staring after her in surprise, but the 
little group across the street were in the shadow. 
After a moment he went in and closed the door. 

Here they are! ” exclaimed the child, triumph- 
antly. “ Did you hear him ? I was awful took 
back when he said to mend it up. Warn’t he 
green ! 

Winifred paid the price for the pins, and the chil- 
dren stood by absorbed in watching the pinning-up 
process. 

Oh, Jiminy! Say, Sal, she’s got on a silk 
dress right under the other one! ” cried one of them, 
with saucer-like eyes when Hester’s silk petticoat 
was displayed in turning up her dress. But the 
other child’s amazement surpassed this when the 
silk lining was disclosed. 

“ Oh, my eye! Oh, cracky! ” twisting herself up 
in a knot of delight. She ’s got her dress on 
wrong side out! Oh, rats! ain’t them big bugs 
queer! ” 

ax 


CHAPTER XIX. 


WINIFRED. 

I F the children had only been alive to it, the sight 
of those smutty faces and torn gloves in com- 
parison with the silk linings was the funniest thing 
about it all. But faces with a generous deposit of 
mother-earth were no exception in their little world. 

With the aid of the four pins and a bonnet-pin 
that somebody managed to spare, the long, jagged 
rent across Hester’s front breadth was drawn to- 
gether so that she would not step through it. 

“ Now I believe the damages are all repaired as 
far as our limited resources will permit,” said Wini- 
fred, straightening, ” and we can set out for home.” 

” Oh, Miss Douglas! Look at your face, and 
Margaret’s, too! ” cried Hester, as they came out 
into the light of the street lamp and had time to 
notice the grime. 

” And Hester’s ?” returned Margaret. ” Is mine 
as dirty as yours ? ” 

” Girls, we never can go home in the cars! ” ex- 
claimed Winifred, despairingly. ” We ’ll have to 
walk. Perhaps we may meet an empty cab. Come, 
we must start at once, or we won’t be home till 
midnight.” 


322 


Boarding-School Days. 323 

“Good-bye, little good Samaritans ! “ called 
Hester, as they started. 

“ That ain't our name! ” the children answered 
in a breath. Goo’ bye! ’’ 

Heaven be thanked! there ’s a cab! ” said Mar- 
garet, as they turned the first corner. They hailed 
it and in twenty minutes were duly deposited at St. 
Ursula’s. 

The affair was a nine-days excitement in school, 
of course, for the very possible tragedy that might 
have resulted seemed unpleasantly near. Neither 
of the girls felt the slightest ill-effect fortunately, 
but Winifred, who was beginning to feel the nervous 
strain of the long year and her new work and was 
consequently not as strong as usual, did not escape 
so well. Her taking off her coat for Hester and 
Margaret, also, while it probably saved them, 
heated as they were, from the effect of the chill 
and dampness, had exposed her to the same thing. 
She had to retire to the infirmary before morning. 
Fortunately her good constitution threw off any 
serious effects and in a week’s time she was back in 
her room. 

The “ Merry Chanters” held a jubilee in the 
Thistle room the day that Miss Douglas returned 
to it. There were no visits allowed to the infirmary, 
and not even for a teacher was this rule relaxed. 


324 


A Nest of Girls. 


Hester, who had naturally been plunged in a sea of 
remorse, had kept Winifred supplied with glorious 
roses during her imprisonment. On Sunday when 
the word was spread that Miss Douglas had been 
taken to the infirmary and the doctor summoned, 
poor Hester was nearly frantic at the result of her 
little wilfulness. On Tuesday when the news came 
that the fever had been broken and the possibility of 
pneumonia averted, she was half-beside herself with 
the reaction. With Mrs. Conway’s permission she 
had met Winifred at the door of the infirmary on 
Saturday afternoon about three o’clock to escort her 
in triumph to her room. The girls had decked it 
with flowers till it was as gay as a bower. They 
were all there, all the little set that Winifred loved. 
The three chairs and most of the floor was occupied, 
for others came dropping in for congratulations. 
Winifred was carefully installed on the bed, in 
spite of her protests that she wanted to see her lovely 
flowers, and covered up with her silk blanket. 

“ Let ’s sing a paean of triumph,” suggested Vir- 
ginia, drumming her heels on the foot-board. It is 
needless to say that she was adorning that part of 
the bed. She struck up in her sweet contralto a 
scrap of the Pilgrim s Chorus. 

” That ’s too low,” said Hester. ” Who could 
sing way down there ? Pitch it higher.” 

” Can’t pitch it any higher unless I pitch it out 


Boarding-School Days. 325 

of the window. Here, catch it, Judith, and pitch it 
to suit yourself,” pretending to toss the tune to 
Judith. 

Nobody could catch any tune I sing,” grum- 
bled Judith, throwing an imaginary something back 
again. Judith was the only one of the ” Merry 
Chanters ” who was not musical. The others sang, 
each and all, as we have said, rather unusually well. 
Virginia chanted 

“ ‘ The first bird of spring 
Attempted to sing. 

Ere he uttered a note 
He fell from the limb. 

And a dead bird was him. 

For the music was friz in his throat ! * ” 

” Where do you get those effusions, Virginia ?” 
asked Winifred amused. 

” It ’s my latest from Signor Paulini, of course. 
Lovely thing. Oh, Miss Douglas! To think of 
your having that sweet adventure the other day and 
I not in it! I can’t get over it.” 

” Run right down and try it any day,” advised 
Judith. ” Be sure you shut the right door — the 
one without a knob.” 

” Virginia, don’t talk about that,” said Lorraine, 
noticing the line that deepened on Winifred’s fore- 
head. No one was quicker than Lorraine to observe 
what people did not like. 


326 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Decidedly, I would prefer your talking on the 
Beauty of Cheerfulness or Free Tariff or something,’* 
nodded Winifred, patting Lorraine’s hand that had 
stolen up to her neck. “You can’t imagine how 
that black hole has haunted my dreams this week,” 
with a little shiver. 

“ We won’t, then,” said Virginia, with a big 
sigh. “ But it ’s always that way. I ’m the only 
one who would have really appreciated that adven- 
ture, and where was I ? Entertaining a stupid 
man out at Katharine Henry’s! I did want to 
know about the spiders, though. The girls say 
they were little bits of ones — not larger than tea- 
plates.” 

“ Virginia, shut up,” ordered Hester cavalierly, 
and Virginia, whose reckless nature would literally 
have found only fun in the adventure and so had 
not realized that Winifred actually dreaded the 
memory, created a diversion by suddenly losing her 
balance and going over backwards in the marvellous, 
supple way she had of throwing herself around; 
incidentally she upset Judith. 

“ Virginia, stop your monkey shines and get up,” 
commanded Judith severely. “You act like a per- 
fect lunatic to-day.” 

“ You ’re good authority on the point of lunacy,” 
answered Virginia cheerfully. 

“Yes, my dear, for I ’ve been studying your case 


Boarding-School Days. 327 

for some time/’ returned Judith, screwing her 
mouth around provokingly. 

“ That Tu~Quoque argument is always bad form,” 
retorted Virginia. ” I ’ll give it for an example 
to-morrow in Logic.” 

How I wish that Romelia Dransfield studied 
Logic,” ruminated Margaret. ” Would n’t she 
shine there! ” 

Is she really stupid ?” asked Winifred. Ro- 
melia did not chance to be in her classes. 

She has n’t any more brains than the law al- 
lows,” said Hester consideringly. 

“Oh, could you say that?” put in Judith. 
“ Now, I ’ve always regarded her as illegally 
stupid.” 

“ Girls, what has become of the Slander Soci- 
ety ? ” asked Winifred with a smile. She had been 
trying all winter to break up the habit of a fling or 
criticism, especially at their favorite butt, Romelia 
Dransfield. 

“ We ’ve put in a new by-law,” said Virginia, 
promptly. “ It ’sthis: ‘ But fearing that the mem- 
bers of the Society may lose the use of their tongues 
by refraining entirely from slander, generally hav- 
ing no other conversation handy, hereby be it 
resolved that said members may indulge in any 
reflections, slanderous or otherwise, on Romelia 
Dransfield, it being considered that the worst things 


328 


A Nest of Girls. 


that can be said of her are no slander but generally 
melancholy truth.’ And, Miss Douglas, this is a 
festive occasion and we ’re celebrating.” 

“ If slander is something that is n’t true, then 
Virginia ’s proved her position,” agreed Judith. 

” Stop, girls, that ’s hitting a girl when she ’s 
down,” put in Hester imperatively, ” and that we 
don’t do, slander or no slander! ” 

** Speaking of Miss Roberts,” began Valentine, 
when several voices cried, ” Slander! ” 

“ No, it is n’t,” returned Valentine indignantly. 
” I was going to say that Miss Roberts is getting 
alarmingly amiable. That ’s no slander, for I mean 
it, and it ’s a compliment.” 

” That ’s true,” agreed Margaret, reflecting. 
” She has n’t said for a month ‘Young ladies, when 
you are through admiring your hands, you may go 
on with your laboratory work. ’ ’ ’ 

” I ’ve noticed it, too,” said Lodema Gathright 
eagerly. She had slipped in a few minutes before. 
All the girls laughed at her words — for Lodema 
was just the one to catch Miss Roberts’s flying 
shafts — and the girl drew back, flushing. Hester 
patted the hand near her and Lodema suddenly felt 
repaid for every pang. 

The sound of the dressing-bell for dinner rang 
through the house just here, and the girls dragged 
themselves up reluctantly. 


Boarding-School Days. 329 

“ I '11 just catch time by the pig- tail and run in 
for a few minutes' talk again later," whispered 
Hester, stooping over Miss Douglas and arranging 
her blanket. " If you had been ill any longer I 
think I should have gone crazy. Are you sure you 
forgive me ? " 


CHAPTER XX. 


A NEW COMBINATION. 

F or months it had been settled that when Hes- 
ter went abroad with her father and mother 
after her graduation, Lorraine was to go with them. 
Many an hour had the two spent in planning the 
good times they meant to have, revelling in the 
thought of that dear, wonderful, entrancing 
“ abroad.'' Perhaps it would be more true to say 
that Hester dreamed and talked of all the shrines 
of her girlish adorations which they meant to visit 
and Lorraine listened and smiled and agreed, though 
she never could quite remember whether Venice 
was in Germany or France, as she once confessed 
hesitatingly to Hester. 

‘ ‘ I know it 's a watery place, ' ' she added. * ‘ Is n't 
it on the Rhine ? " But Lorraine never troubled 
her pretty head about such dull, prosaic things as 
mere localities. 

“ The ticket-agent has to know. It 's his busi- 
ness," she would add. “ So I could always get 
anywhere I wanted to go." But as she rarely com- 
mitted herself to any decided opinions, but was 
content to smile and look bewitching and do sweet 
330 


Boarding-School Days. 331 

little thoughtful things for people, all this did n’t 
matter. 

Never mind, my sweet, I ’ll plan for both of 
us, always,” Hester would generally finish, kissing 
the cheek with its baby curves. And when Hester 
would talk by the hour about their proposed trip, 
and the places that Mrs. Cameron meant to take 
them to see, Lorraine responded to everything with 
an ecstatic, ** Is n’t it lovely! ” 

Hester was radiantly happy over her prospects, 
for as Mrs. Conway’s certificate admitted her pupils 
to the leading colleges, there was nothing on her 
mind for the summer but a gay time. ” And it will 
be such a joy to have Lorraine with me,” Hester 
would say jubilantly to Miss Douglas. ” Of course, 
I ’d delight in having any of the girls, but Lorraine 
and I like just the same things. Judith, for in- 
stance, would want to see every hospital in Europe, 
and Virginia insists that she is going to buy some- 
thing in every shop on the continent. She likes to 
pretend to be dreadfully frivolous, you know, but 
she really does love shopping. As if I ’ll waste my 
precious time shopping! And Valentine would be 
always studying the guide-books, so afraid that she 
would miss seeing something she ought to see, that 
she ’d never see anything. Besides, dear child, 
she ’s always late. But Lorraine — ” Hester 
stopped expressively. 


332 


A Nest of Girls. 


Would n't you like Margaret ? " asked Wini- 
fred, who favored that friendship. 

“ Oh, yes, dearly! I am devoted to Margaret, 
next to Lorraine. I think Margaret is perfectly 
fine. She 's so — so square and all that, and full of 
fun and she 's good company — oh, she 's dear! ” 
enthusiastically. “ Margaret and I think we '11 go 
abroad together some time." 

" And Lorraine is satisfied with the trip your 
father has planned ? " asked Winifred, with a touch 
of curiosity, from something she had heard Lorraine 
say a day or two before. 

“ Oh, yes! You know father says we had better 
attempt England and Holland only, with a week in 
Paris, this time. I 'd rather go to Brittany than 
Paris, though, and so would Lorraine." 

Winifred, with a memory of Lorraine’s confi- 
dences in her ears, strongly doubted this, but while 
she was meditating on the possibility of telling 
Hester not to take Lorraine too much for granted, 
the moment passed and Hester had gone. 

“ My poor girlie ! ’’ she thought pitifully. “ Lor- 
raine is not worthy of such love! Sweet and be- 
witching as she is, you are perfectly ignorant of the 
real child ! ’’ 

Winifred knew that Hester had never been alone 
with Lorraine for any length of time and, with the 
background of common school interests, she had 


333 


Boarding-School Days. 

not yet learned that the winsome child was all sur- 
face. Would she have to learn it ? The question was 
answered for Winifred so soon that it left her dazed. 

It was two nights later that Lorraine whisked 
into the Thistle room one night before half-past 
nine, in dressing-gown and slippers. 

“I’m all ready for bed, underneath,” she an- 
nounced, “ so that I can stay till the very last min- 
ute. I — want to ask you to do something for me. 
You will, won’t you ?” in her charming, coaxing 
way, kneeling down beside Miss Douglas and fold- 
ing her arms across her lap. 

Miss Douglas composed herself to hear. Lor- 
raine changed her position and with one arm about 
Winifred’s neck she played with her hair with 
gentle, kitten-like touches. 

“ You have such lovely hair, Miss Douglas!” she 
began, laying her cheek against it in her caressing 
fashion. “ There ’s the most distracting little wave 
where it parts on your forehead. And it ’s such an 
awfully sweet color. I love that golden brown.” 

“ Well?” said Winifred smiling, “ you did n’t 
want to trade hair, did you ? Is that the favor ? ” 

“Of course not! How absurd! But I do wish 
we could. Do you know, I think you ’d look per- 
fectly sweet in lavender.” 

“ I ’ll order a lavender mull to-morrow. Is that 
the favor ? 


334 


A Nest of Girls. 


Oh, will you ? you dear thing! Yes, you ’d 
look too dear for any use! No, it is n’t the favor 
but I do think it is a very great one. Well, you 
know — ” she stopped and played with Winifred’s 
fingers. I just love your hand. Your fingers are 
as soft as velvet. Touch my forehead — so — oh, I 
never will forget the night I had that headache and 
you came in and smoothed my forehead. Your 
fingers were like snow.” 

” Snow is damp. Well ? ” getting a little alarmed. 

” You are very unromantic to-night. Well, you 
know — I was going abroad with Hester this sum- 
mer ? ’ ’ The words were as nearly jerked out as pos- 
sible considering it was Lorraine who was speaking. 

Of course I knew it,” said Winifred sharply. 
” Why do you say were going ? What has hap- 
pened ? ” 

” O Miss Douglas, it ’s this way. You know 
Maud Perry ” 

” Maud Perry! ” 

** Yes, I see a good deal of her now because 
I ’m in most of her classes and we generally sit to- 
gether in recitation and all that — ” Lorraine hesi- 
tated, drawing her dainty finger around the curves 
of Winifred’s firm white chin. 

” Yes ? For heaven’s sake, child, go on! ” 

” I was just saying that Maud Perry I don’t 
suppose she ’s told you yet ? ” 


Boarding-School Days. 335 

“ I am not often favored with Maud’s confidence. 
Go on.” 

” She is n’t coming back after Easter. You 
know her mother ’s dead and her father is going 
abroad on business and is going to take Maud’s 
elder sister, and Maud just begged and teased so, 
that he is going to take her too. She just told him 
she would n’t stay here and that she ’d run away if 
he left her and took Grace over to Europe. He 
wanted her to finish here and stay with some cous- 
ins all summer. Did you ever hear of such a thing ! 
Of course she did n’t want to.” 

” Of course,” repeated Winifred with convic- 
tion. ” But what has all this to do with you, 
child ? ” with a sinking heart for Hester. 

” I ’m coming to that. Don’t hurry me so. Miss 
Douglas. Oh, please excuse me! I did n’t mean 
to be cross.” Lorraine dropped light kisses on 
Winifred’s forehead. ” Where was I ? Well — I — 
I — happened to say that — that — I was tired of 
school, too, and envied her dreadfully, — and I 
wished I could go now instead of waiting till June.” 

” O l^orraine ! ” 

“ Now, Miss Douglas! There was n’t anything 
in that. I never pretend to like school, or at least 
I never pretend much. So she said — she asked me 
— she said her father said — would n’t it be nice if I 
could go with them, now.” 


336 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Now ? With the Perrys ? ” incredulously. 

“ Ves, Miss Douglas,’' with a touch of defiance. 
“ Right away now. After Easter, at least. They 
sail on the 2ist. I wrote mamma and told her all 
about it and said I was tired of school and begged 
her to let me go now, and ” 

“ And all this without a word to any one ? You’ve 
been planning all this secretly ? ” 

Lorraine opened her brown eyes with a look of 
injured innocence. 

“ I was only trying to make things easier. Miss 
Douglas. I thought if mamma said no that Hes- 
ter would be all fussed up for nothing, and I wanted 
to save her all I could. Dear old Hester! So I 
told Maud not to say anything till I heard from 
mamma.” 

“You little brute I ” were the words in Winifred’s 
mind, but she waited a moment before saying them. 
Perhaps the child had some saving notion some- 
where. 

Get off my lap, Lorraine. You ’re heavy. 
Go on.” 

“ Oh, am I heavy ? please forgive me. I did n’t 
mean to tire you.” Lorraine instantly slipped to 
the floor, bringing her flower-like face close to Miss 
Douglas’s shoulder. 

“ But you see,” she went on, possessing herself 
of one of the hands that had been unceremoniously 


337 


Boarding-School Days. 

pulled away from her, “ mamma wrote I could go 
if I liked, though she thought it would be better to 
stay. She knows all about the Perrys, she says, so 
it is n’t as if they were strangers to her, you see. Of 
course, if they were, it would n’t be a suitable ar- 
rangement at all ” — virtuously — “ and I was to let 
her know at once what I finally decided, so that she 
could let Mrs. Conway know about my not coming 
back.” 

Winifred sat speechless. 

“You see mamma does n’t care, for I was going 
anyway with Hester and she is going off to some 
stupid old hot-baths where I would n’t have a bit 
of fun.” 

“ And you have positively decided ?” Winifred 
asked in a stifled voice. 

“ Oh, yes! how could I hesitate ? Think of 
leaving school and never having any more poky old 
lessons and going abroad with two jolly girls! 
Guess I ’d be a goose! And Maud’s sister is as 
jolly as can be. Maud ’s told me a lot about her. 
Oh, it will be more fun than a boxful of monkeys! ” 

“ And Hester ? ” Winifred managed to ask. She 
had possessed herself of her hands again, and sat 
with them tightly folded. “ Where is Hester to 
come in ? ” 

“ Oh, dear old Hester! That ’s the only thing 
I ’m sorry about. She ’d planned so much about it. 


338 


A Nest of Girls. 


But then she does n’t like hardly any of the things 
I like. She would really have a better time if she ’d 
ask some other girl to go with her. Now, Miss 
Douglas — ” suddenly flinging both arms around 
Winifred’s neck and bringing her brilliant little face 
close to the other one, “ that ’s the favor! Won’t 
you please tell Hester for me that I ’m going sooner 
than I thought and that I can’t wait for her ? ” 

“You little — piece of ice!” Winifred cried, 
shaking her off. “You are coolly going to break 
Hester’s heart in more ways than you can dream of, 
and you want me to strike the blow! ” 

“ Oh, Miss Douglas! Don’t be angry! I never 
thought that you ’d be angry! It ’s such a little 
thing to ask.” Lorraine’s brown eyes lifted them- 
selves entreatingly. “ Of course she ’ll be disap- 
pointed, but so am I. Dreadfully disappointed. 
That sweet old thing! Is n’t she the dearest ? ” 

“ It ’s a pity to inflict such a disappointment on 
— yourself.” 

“ I know. I ’ve thought about it a lot. But 
don’t you see ? I ’ll get out of school two months 
earlier, and since I never could graduate if I stayed 
here till my hair was green, it does n’t make a bit 
of difference about my leaving. I asked mamma if 
it would make any difference to Mrs. Conway if I 
left, but she said my bills are paid till June and it 
did n’t matter.” 


339 


Boarding-School Days. 

The mixture of callousness and consideration were 
so like Lorraine ! Winifred drew a long breath. 

And I ’m simply dying to go abroad! And I 
know Maud and her sister will be stacks of fun. I 
never knew Maud much till lately, and she ’s so 
jolly — you can’t think! ” 

“How can you know her so well now, when you 
are just as much as ever with Hester and the rest ? ’’ 

Lorraine settled herself comfortably again and 
stroked Winifred’s hair. 

“You know I am not with them in a single les- 
son. They ’re all so dreadfully clever — miles 
yond me. Then the seniors can all study in their 
rooms and we generally study in the study-parlor ’’ 
— which, being interpreted, meant that they never 
kept high enough marks to have the privilege of 
room-study — “ and we got to sitting near each other 
and we began to write notes and all that. You 
don’t have charge of that division, you know.’’ 

“ No,’’ grimly. “ Has Hester any idea of this 
intimacy ? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know! Of course I don’t talk of 
Maud Perry to her, for Hester does n’t like her and 
I would n’t think of talking of anything that Hester 
did n’t like. And Maud does not like them either. 
She says they are such — well, you know Maud likes 
fun.’’ 

“ Do not the ‘ Merry Chanters ’ ?’’ 


340 


A Nest of Girls. 


Oh, not Maud’s kind of fun! They think it 
silly. But Maud ’s just rich! You ought to see 
her take off the teachers ! She does Miss Roberts 
to the life.” 

“ Thank you,” said Winifred dryly. 

” Oh, not you ! She ’d never think of taking j/ou 
off. She thinks you ’re — you ’re — so nice. Now, 
Miss Douglas, won’t you just tell Hester ? She ’ll 
take anything from you, and you always put any- 
thing so nicely.” 

“You little brute!” the words came in spite of 
herself this time. Winifred controlled with a strong 
effort her impulse to shake Lorraine till her teeth 
chattered. Then she felt ashamed of the inclina- 
tion, for it was like being angry with a butterfly. 
Winifred changed her tactics. 

“ Hester loves you so dearly, Lorraine! How 
can you hurt her so ? ” * 

Lorraine’s fair face clouded like a child’s. 

“ I know she loves me and I truly love her. Miss 
Douglas. Why, I love her dreadfully! You can’t 
think! She is so beautiful and so — so grand and she 
has such beautiful, big thoughts, I just feel tired 
out sometimes ! ” 

“ Poor little Undine! ” sighed Winifred involun- 
tarily. “ Such a waste of love! ” 

“ Oh, no indeed! It could n’t be a waste of love 
to love Hester! ” cried Lorraine eagerly. 


Boarding-School Days. 341 

Winifred smiled in spite of her heart so sore for 
Hester. 

‘'You see,” Lorraine proceeded to explain fur- 
ther, “ Hester does n’t like shopping and I adore it 
and so does Maud, and Hester loves big cathedrals 
and such tiresome things and she knows about them 
and it ’s so stupid to know things. Oh, some time 
I ’ll go with Hester and we ’ll do everything she 
wants to ! ” 

Then she fell to begging Miss Douglas again to 
tell Hester. 

“ I ’m so afraid she ’ll cry or something, and then 
I ’d nearly die! ” 

Winifred tried coaxing next, feeling she could not 
let her favorite have this sudden blow. She had 
been almost sure that the awakening would come 
during the trip and Hester must find out in the 
long, close intimacy of travel that she had made an 
ideal of the pretty creature — but to have it come 
like this! Lorraine, however, showed the sudden 
inflexibility that so often characterizes that tempera- 
ment. There was not a trace of relenting in her. 
She would not even see the irony of the situation, — 
that she should have chosen to strike up an intimacy 
with Maud of all people. 

” Why, I like her and she ’s such fun ! ” was Lor- 
raine’s one argument, with wide open eyes that any 
one should think that not reason enough. 


342 


A Nest of Girls. 


Suddenly a tap came at the door. Winifred 
started up in dismay as it recalled her to the late- 
ness of the hour. 

“ Oh, Lorraine! It is past ten! We ought both 
to be put in a dark closet! Come in.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


MAY. 

I T was Mrs. Conway. She stopped in great sur- 
prise at the sight of Miss Douglas’s companion 
at that hour. 

“ Mrs. Conway,” said Winifred quickly, “ may 
I just let Lorraine go and tell you about it ? ” 

” Oh, not yet,” whispered Lorraine in alarm, but 
Winifred nodded resolutely. 

“You may go, Lorraine. I am sure it is all right 
if Miss Douglas kept you.” 

Lorraine kissed them both in her fluttering, ca- 
ressing way, and took her dainty, blue-gowned self 
off, with a beseeching look at Winifred. After she 
had gone Winifred told Mrs. Conway of her confi- 
dence, with an apology for making Lorraine break 
the rules. Mrs. Conway listened in silence till she 
finished. 

“ I had a letter from Mrs. Dudley to-night telling 
me the same thing, and I came up to see if you 
thought Hester knew. Oh, that poor child ! ” Mrs. 
Conway’s tone was full of pain. “ Like you, I was 
sure it had to come, but this seems such a brutal 
way! I never approved of the intimacy except just 
at first when I thought it might help Lorraine and 


343 


344 


A Nest of Girls. 


would do Hester no harm. These strong, beautiful 
natures seem to feel the need of giving lavishly. 
But I was soon convinced that Lorraine only leaned 
on Hester, with no effort to stand alone. That was 
why I put Lorraine with Judith this year. Judith 
encourages no leaning,” and both smiled. 

“ Hester has always read her own self into Lor- 
raine,” said Winifred thoughtfully. ” She endows 
her with qualities and sentiments that the poor little 
soul hardly knows exist ! Hester will feel this so ! 
It will hurt her pride and her ideals as well as her 
love, Mrs. Conway. 

“ My poor child! ” said Mrs. Conway softly, with 
infinite tenderness in her tone. ” These grand na- 
tures need so much pruning I It is hard to be brave 
enough to see those we love suffer,” she added 
with a touch of wistfulness, ” even when we know 
the suffering will strengthen. Yet — few of us would 
give up the glorious hurt of life for ourselves, and 
why should we deny the heights of life to others ?” 

Winifred covered her eyes with her hand. 

” Those are heights too high for me,” she said 
after a moment. ” I would spare Hester — every- 
thing.” 

“You have never known great sorrow yourself ? ” 
softly. “ No ? Forgive me. I was sure of it.” 
She hesitated a moment, then said: “ I could save 
Hester from this, this minute. A letter to Mrs. 


345 


Boarding-School Days. 

Dudley, whom I know very well, and the whole 
thing would be stopped if I strongly disapproved. 
I could very easily arrange for Lorraine to carry out 
her original plan” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Conway! ” beseeching with eyes and 
voice. 

” No, I shall not interfere. Oh, my dear! don’t 
think me cruel ! I love this child ! I seem to see 
in her violet eyes the look my baby wore.” 

The sudden passion of the tone went to Wini- 
fred’s heart. She could speak no word. They 
were so used to their chief, bright, and brave, and 
strong, that it seldom occurred to any of them that 
she ever needed comfort and consolation, or that 
she carried a heart that fate had cut and slashed to 
its bleeding depths. 

Mrs. Conway’s eyes took on the inward glow that 
so often marked them. 

” No, it is not right. We must spare our loved 
ones nothing — no pang that life inflicts. Remem- 
ber that life’s sharpest corners must always be turned 
alone, and how are these dear ones to know the way if 
we stand between them and every experience from 
which we can save them ? It is so hard, so desper- 
ately hard, to be strong for those we love! Yet it 
is only infinite love they need — only understand- 
ing sympathy. Not help to escape — only help to 
endure.” 


346 


A Nest of Girls. 


As she spoke, Winifred caught for a moment the 
incense of the upper air of the mountain-tops of life. 
This brave, beautiful soul dwelt so habitually with 
high and noble thoughts that one felt the perfume 
of them in all she said and did. One never left her 
presence after the most casual interview that one 
did not feel equal to higher heights, with a keener 
sense of the glory of the possession of life. 

As it usually happens, every girl in school knew 
that Lorraine, instead of coming back after Easter, 
was going abroad with Maud Perry, while Hester 
was still planning and dreaming of their summer to- 
gether. To do Lorraine justice, she had made 
Maud promise that she would say nothing at pres- 
ent, meaning to tell Hester herself or get Miss 
Douglas to do so, but Maud had carelessly told one 
of her chums, in her glee at “ getting ahead of 
Hester,” and before night it was all over the school. 
That evening, in the school-parlor, the Merry 
Chanters,'' who had heard with incredulous ears the 
story of Lorraine's “ perfidy,” as Margaret tragic- 
ally called it, tried to hedge around their beloved 
chief with a loyal wall lest she should hear the 
news in public. Judith had gotten hold of Lorraine 
for a moment as they left the dining-room. 

“ What 's this I heard after study-hour ? Do 
you dare to tell me you are making any plans with 


347 


Boarding-School Days. 

that — that — insolent little snob ? ” J udith’s usu- 
ally vigorous English was suddenly inadequate to 
her wrath. 

Don’t be so angry,” begged Lorraine fright- 
ened. ” You see, I ’m so tired of school, and 
all ” 

” It ’s true, then ?” said Judith fiercely, almost 
shaking the other. 

” Maud really is n’t so bad,” Lorraine began, the 
pitiful tears welling up to her lovely eyes, and her 
lip quivering. ” If Hester would go now of course 
I ’d go with her, but she ’s so anxious to stay and 
graduate — ” Thereupon Judith yielded to her im- 
pulse and treated herself to a somewhat vigorous 
personal expression of her feelings leaving Lorraine 
perfectly thunderstruck. She was too surprised to 
be resentful, even if her nature had not been too 
sweet to admit of so strong a sentiment. On the 
contrary she was so hurt and so grieved that she 
could not even dance and presently she crept to her 
refuge — H ester. 

Hester danced beautifully and was so good a 
leader that she was always in demand, and one girl 
after another claimed a round. At the moment 
that Lorraine came up Hester had just thrown her- 
self, breathless and laughing, into a chair. 

” I must rest a moment, Jessica, then I ’ll dance 
with you. That ’s right, Lorraine, fan me.” 


348 


A Nest of Girls. 


Lorraine leaned over the back of the chair fanning 
her with a paper and playing with the soft black 
hair as she loved to do. Margaret looked at her 
furiously. How dared she touch Hester ? 

“ Come and dance with me, Lorraine,” she said 
quickly, and they whirled off. Presently two other 
girls paused to rest by Hester’s chair and one of 
them remarked as Lorraine floated by : 

“ How exquisitely she dances! Is n’t she just 
like a feather! ” 

“ She the sweetest thing anyway! ” responded 
Helen Ives enthusiastically. “I do just envy 
Maud Perry. I should think you ’d be just green, 
Hester! ” 

“ Envy Maud ! ” echoed Hester, in surprise. 
“ Maud never struck me as an enviable person.” 

” Listen to her! ” cried Helen. “Any one would 
think you did n’t care if Lorraine is going with 
Maud, when you ’ve always been at daggers drawn.” 

“What do you mean?” exclaimed puzzled 
Hester. 

“ Come, Hester, I ’m dying for another turn,” 
broke in Virginia. “ Are n’t you rested ? Come 
along,” and she dragged Hester up and dashed her 
off. 

Valentine turned impulsively to Helen Ives. 

Hester does n’t know a word of it yet. None 
of us did till this afternoon. We want to keep it 


349 


Boarding-School Days. 

from Hester till after study-hour. It will hurt her 
awfully. Of course we are all furious with Lorraine 
for deceiving us so, but it will break Hester’s heart. 
Do help us to keep the girls from talking! ” 

“ Do you mean to tell me that Hester does not 
know it ? Has n’t Lorraine told her yet ? ” incred- 
ulously. “ Is she still planning her trip with Lor- 
raine ? Well, by all that ’s outrageous! ” 

Isn’t it ? How could Lorraine! hush! here 
comes Hester! Do go on, or she ’ll ask you what 
you meant by your remark. She has it in her eyes. ” 

Somebody at the piano dashed into a polka and 
Helen Ives with a nod of comprehension and a pity- 
ing glance at Hester, caught her companion round 
the waist and polkaed off. But Hester’s face was 
puzzled as she rejoined the group. She had heard 
a stray scrap or two of conversation as she had 
whirled about the room and had caught a bit of a 
sentence from Maud Perry herself. 

“ Lorraine and I ” 

That was all. But it was enough for wonder- 
ment. When had she ever seen Lorraine and Maud 
talking together ? Romelia Dransfield sauntered 
past at the moment with her arm around Florence 
Elmer’s waist. She could not dance on account of 
her weak heart. 

“ Oh, Hester, dear, how sorry I am for you,” she 
began in her soft, doughy way. Judith cut in. 


350 


A Nest of Girls. 


** Romelia, did you see Caroline Adams ? She 
was looking for you.” 

** Was she ? Dear Carrie! I really have not 
spoken to her to-day, and I ’m afraid she thinks 
I *m mad. Where is she now ? ” 

” Over there in the corner, playing cat’s cradle, 
I think,” answered Judith mendaciously. ” You ’d 
better go and find her, for I think she wanted some- 
thing important,” thinking impatiently, ” won’t 
that old gong ever ring ? ” 

” Why, here ’s Carrie, now,” said Romelia, turn- 
ing as the girl in question approached. Judith 
groaned. 

” Here I am, dear. Did you want me ? ” asked 
Romelia eagerly. 

” Want you ? no,” answered Caroline Adams 
shortly. ” What should I want you for ? ” 

” Why, Judith said you had been inquiring for 
me,” said Romelia reproachfully. 

” Oh, that!” laughed Caroline, exchanging a 
glance with Judith. ” Well, I believe I did. I 
don’t want anything now, though. Come, Harriet, 
this is a fine two-step.” 

As it chanced, Caroline Adams had said to Judith 
a few minutes before, after commenting on the as- 
tonishing news of Lorraine’s going abroad with 
Maud instead of Hester: 

” I know your two sets are like cats and dogs, so 


Boarding-School Days. 351 

I would n’t have been more surprised if it had been 
Romelia Dransfield. Where is she now ? I have 
been keeping out of her way all day, for she ’s tak- 
ing to hanging on me, lately.” 

But Romelia’s quiet persistency of purpose was 
never to be balked. She had an idea that Hester 
did not yet know the facts and she was quite quick 
enough to perceive that the girls were trying to 
shield her. She ignored Judith’s attempts to draw 
her away. 

“How you will miss dear Lorraine! Oh, Virgie! 
excuse me, dear, but that was my foot. Oh, of 
course, you did n’t know it was there. Such a 
sudden thing, too. Maud Perry is so delighted.” 

“ Hester, we ’ve just time for one more turn,” 
exclaimed Margaret, catching her hand. Hester 
resisted. 

“ For heaven’s sake, Romelia, what are you all 
talking about ? ” she asked sharply. “ Of course, 
I miss Lorraine whenever she is n’t with me.” She 
drew Lorraine to her as she spoke, with a quick 
gesture of appropriation, as the girl came up. 
“ Well, sweetheart! ” 

“ After all your plans, too! ” pursued Romelia, 
suddenly seeing daylight. “ And now to have it 
all broken up by Lorraine’s going abroad with Maud 
Perry this ” 

Romelia did not finish, for the chair she was 


352 


A Nest of Girls. 


leaning on suddenly slipped as Virginia stumbled 
against it and then there was a mdee of girls on the 
floor. At that moment the blessed gong sounded. 

Hester stood perfectly motionless, with her arm 
still around Lorraine’s shoulder. The blow struck 
her full in the face, but she took it without a quiver. 
Lorraine alone knew of sudden rigidity of every 
muscle. At the sound of the gong began the scat- 
tering for the different requirements of the evening. 
Lorraine made a movement to go also, terrified by 
Hester’s face, but the steady pressure of the arm 
across her shoulder kept her. All the girls were 
gone at last ; even the faithful little band, after a 
glance at Hester’s face, left the two alone. Slowly 
then Hester removed her arm and turned and faced 
the child she had so loved. 

Lorraine, tell me about this incomprehensible 
thing. What do they all mean ? what mistake is 
there ? ” The questions came slowly from the stiff 
lips. 

“ Oh, Hester, love, you see ” 

“ Don’t explain,” said Hester imperiously. 

Have you actually made any plans, as they say, 
to go abroad with Maud Perry, putting ours aside 
without my even knowing it ? Answer me, yes or 
no! ” 

” But, Hester dearest, you see, I am so tired of 
school, and you would rather stay for your stupid 


Boarding-School Days. 353 

old graduation than go now, and so — so — ” Lor- 
raine raised her hand to the other’s face with the 
pretty little caressing gesture she so often used. 
Hester caught it away. 

Oh. Lorraine! ” she said, almost in a whisper. 
“Lorraine! how could you!’’ Then she went 
steadily out of the room and took her place, two 
minutes late at the French conversation class. 

That same evening, Lorraine, having obtained 
permission of the teacher in charge, slipped into the 
Chestnut room, in her dressing gown. Margaret 
instantly escaped to Miss Douglas. Lorraine, with 
tears and protestations began to explain. Hester 
listened tiredly. She had the dazed feeling that 
always follows a blow. For a moment, nothing 
mattered. She uttered no word of reproach. 

“ Don't explain any more,’’ she said wearily at 
last. “ If you want to go with Maud Perry instead 
of with me, that is reason enough.’’ 

“ Oh, Hester! ’’ cried Lorraine miserably, her 
downy little soul more distressed by Hester’s way 
of taking it than by any amount of scolding or en- 
treaties. These she had steeled herself to endure 
— if the word could be used with anything so soft 
and sweet as this child. “ Hester! you know I 
love you best, don’t you ? ’’ 

“ Yes, I am sure of that,’’ Hester answered so 
gently that Lorraine did not detect the slightest 

23 


354 


A Nest of Girls. 


tinge of sarcasm. “ It is all right. It ’s my fault, 
some way. Only — oh, Lorraine! — ” breaking off 
passionately. If you were tired of me, why did 
you not tell me so yourself, and not go off with a 
girl whom I hate and despise! ” 

‘‘ But Maud is very nice, Hester dearest, and 
such fun! broke in Lorraine eagerly, glad to have 
something to defend. “ She would be glad to be 
friends with you if you 'd let her. She never 
mimics you as she does the others — at least, hardly 
ever,” — she amended with a little qualm of con- 
science when she remembered how she had slipped 
into the Daisy room just the night before and how 
she had laughed till she cried at Maud’s take-off of 
some speech of Hester’s. 

One corner of Hester’s mouth smiled tiredly. 
She quite understood. 

” Lorraine, it is nearly half past nine. Won’t 
you please go away now and let me go to bed ? I 
am very tired.” It was all she could say. 

” Oh, sweetheart! you never sent me away be- 
fore,” sobbed Lorraine, two crystal tears welling 
out of her beautiful eyes. Lorraine had an en- 
chanting way of crying. The tears simply rose up 
and overflowed without leaving a particle of red- 
ness behind. 

Hester drew her breath sharply. 

” There is always a first time. Go, Lorraine.” 


Boarding-School Days. 


355 


It was all she could trust herself to say. 

Hester dearest, do say you forgive me, if I 
have hurt your feelings,” cried Lorraine, flinging 
her arms around Hester’s neck. She had never 
thought what life would be like with Hester cold to 
her. She was to do as she liked and Hester should 
always be the sun for her to warm herself by. She 
had thought Hester might possibly “scold ” — al- 
though she had never had any experience of that 
phenomenon — or entreat, but that she could be long 
deaf to her endearments and a stone to her caresses, 
she did not for a moment believe. She nestled her 
golden brown head into the little hollow of Hester’s 
shoulder, and kissed her neck. 

Hester’s arms hung straight down. 

“ There is nothing to forgive, child. I ’m only 
a little — disappointed — about many things. You 
can’t understand, Lorraine. I don’t suppose it ’s 
your fault. I — I have n’t understood you, I sup- 
pose, either. Yes, I forgive you, if you insist on 
my saying so. Go — and have a good time with 
Maud Perry.” 

“ And you really don’t care ?” cried Lorraine 
delightedly, peeping around at her face. “ I 
could n’t enjoy myself half as well if I thought 
you really cared.” 

The tired little smile, with something else in it, 
touched Hester’s lips again, 


356 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ No, I don’t think I care — now.” 

Lorraine hugged her rapturously. 

“ Oh, you dearest old darling! I never thought 
you ’d be half so nice. I told Maud that I was so 
afraid you ’d make a great fuss — ” Hester winced. 
— “ But you have n’t, one bit. Oh, you may be 
always sure I shall love you better than Maud 
Perry.” 

But here Lorraine found herself put suddenly 
over the doorsill and the door was shut. 

When Margaret slipped in quietly at the sound 
of the bell, Hester was in bed with her face to the 
wall. Margaret did not venture to address her, but 
she turned out the light and with her heart aching 
with the impotence of her love, she dropped a ten- 
der little kiss on the black head. 

But Hester, despite her quietness, was cut to the 
very soul. No sleep came to her till morning. As 
those who loved her had foreseen, she had more 
than one hurt to endure. Her pride was cruelly 
stung to think that Lorraine could permit her to 
learn such news through any one but herself. She 
saw, too, that she was not only deserted but de- 
ceived. There had been something about the child’s 
clinging, dependent nature that had appealed pecu- 
liarly to Hester’s strength. The other’s sweetness 
and unselfishness in little things, her charm and 
adaptability had had their fascination. It was the 


357 


Boarding-School Days. 

simple lack of imagination and natural incapacity to 
take a large view which made her capable of inflict- 
ing suffering of which she had no conception. She 
herself was nearly as happy with one person as an- 
other, so long as she was loved and petted and had 
a good time. She could not be made miserable by 
anybody’s absence. How could Hester have under- 
stood all this ? How rarely any of us take time to 
think our friends out ! 

But more than all, Hester’s high ideals of love 
and friendship and loyalty were struck at their very 
roots. If Lorraine played her false — Lorraine, on 
whom she had lavished unspeakable love, was there 
any truth, any trust, any loyalty in anyone ? Friend- 
ship meant so much to Hester! It was a sacred 
thing ; a something that was worth trouble and pain 
to preserve, if necessary; a something that was 
worth sacrifice, if need be ; a something to plant the 
feet on, firmly as on a rock; a sure refuge in time 
of storm or stress; all this, with a girl’s instinctive, 
wistful yearning, she had built up and in the midst 
of her ideal, she had set — Lorraine. The child’s 
careless, impulsive touch had toppled over the fair 
structure, and she would go on her way unwitting 
of the destruction she had wrought. 

Then, if this ideal were false, how with others ? 
Where could one stop ? Of what could one say, 
** This I know? ” Oh, where was Truth ? did 


358 


A Nest of Girls. 


Steadfastness, did Constancy exist ? Was Honor, 
Honor ? was Right, Right ? 

So, through the long hours did Hester grapple 
with the strange new enemy which had presented 
itself. So through the darkness did she fight out 
her first battle with life. Never in after years could 
she look back on that night without a quiver of 
pain for the hurt of the young soul struggling gal- 
lantly with the bitterness of the loss of its ideals. 

That last week before vacation was a little purga- 
tory to the girl. Outwardly she bore herself bravely 
and would permit no comment on Lorraine’s action. 

“ She has a perfect right to suit herself and change 
her mind,” she maintained, to all would-be sympa- 
thizers and the subject would be changed. Nor was 
she different with her own friends. Once Margaret 
broke out fiercely, but Hester checked her with 
much gentleness. 

” Don’t, please! You make it hard for me. It 
hurts too much to talk about it yet.” 

After that the girls had to let off their steam by 
themselves. 

Winifred watched her favorite with loving, aching 
eyes. But she, also, wisely forbore to talk to her. 
It was as Mrs. Conway had said. Life’s sharp cor- 
ners must be turned alone. She could write her 
after she left, but that was not like speech. Mean- 
while, the violet eyes took on such a wistful, far- 


359 


Boarding-School Days. 

away look that it nearly broke the girls’ hearts to 
look at her. Even Judith was betrayed into kissing 
her one day, to her own inexpressible amazement 
and terror. She drew back, blushing frightfully 
through her freckles. 

Please excuse me,” she said, startled into abject 
meekness. 

Lorraine’s manner to Hester was exactly the 
same as ever. The first time she came near her she 
nestled up in her usual manner, but Hester, after a 
moment’s endurance, gently put down her hands 
and walked out the room, hating herself that for a 
moment she had longed to turn around and catch 
the other in her arms. She hated herself that the 
yearning for the touch of those roseleaf fingers was 
almost unendurably strong at times. She saw Lor- 
raine now with perfect clearness, only marvelling 
that she had been blind so long. And yet — oh, 
the pity of it. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


MAY — Continued ), 


HE spring vacation was upon them. The girls 



1 separated, as usual, in a whirl of packing, 
good-byes, embraces, and anticipations. 

Lorraine held a royal court that last day. No 
one could get enough kisses and half the girls were 
crying over her, for no one of them all would have 
been so missed. Lorraine’s looks and smiles and 
loving words were always for any one who cared for 
them. As Hester had persistently held her peace, 
allowing no blame of the child, and as Lorraine her- 
self had eagerly asserted that “ Indeed, Hester un- 
derstood and did n’t care at all,” all comment on 
her action had passed over. They all looked envi- 
ously on Maud, who was to have the dainty little 
creature all to herself for the whole summer. Al- 
though Maud had never been popular, she came in 
for a share of the regret they felt for Lorraine. She 
was at least near the rose. Maud had ridiculed 
everybody, right and left, mimicking their peculi- 
arities ; her manner always bordered on the insolent, 
except when she had a point to gain. Not even her 
intimate friends felt that their reputations were safe 


36 i 


Boarding-School Days. 

in her hands ; she never spared a sneer or a fling. 
Unlike Judith, who at least never mocked at any- 
thing personal, nothing was safe from Maud. J udith 
also had brains and if her schoolmates generally 
disliked her, they at least respected her and were 
proud of her. Down in their hearts no one was 
sorry to say good-bye to Maud Perry. Her one 
redeeming point was her love and loyalty, such as 
it was, to Mrs. Conway. It certainly was not strong 
enough to influence her conduct in the smallest de- 
gree, yet that it was there at all, was something. 

As for Hester she had flung herself on Mrs. Con- 
way's mercy. 

“ Oh, please let me go off on an earlier train! ” 
she begged. “ I '11 lose my Livy, I know, but I’ll 
write it all out and leave it. Let me slip off while 
the girls are in class, so no one will know it. I ’ve 
been brave just as long as I can, and oh, Mrs. Con- 
way! I must not break down now.” 

And Mrs. Conway let her go. She only said good- 
bye to her immediate circle and to Miss Douglas. 

“ I ’ll be very brave when I come back,” she said 
wistfully, to the latter. 

Winifred hugged her close. 

“ You ’ve been very brave already, my darling,” 
she said softly. 

For almost the first time, Hester’s eyes were 
misty with tears. 


362 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Not brave at all,” she whispered, “ but no- 
body knows what a hole Lorraine has left in my 
heart! I ’m a coward to run away now, but I can’t 
run the risk of letting Maud Perry see me break 
down, and, Miss Douglas, I think my heart would 
break to see Lorraine go off with her.” 

“ Go, my girlie, for it is all right. Is n’t it Sid- 
ney Smith who says that it is better to be a coward 
for five minutes than a corpse the rest of your 
life ? ” and Winifred smiled at her through the tears 
that were thick in her own eyes. 

But Hester had no answering smile. 

“ I shall be both a coward and a corpse, then. 
Say good-bye and let me go. Miss Douglas. How 
do I know you will care anything for me when I 
come back ? I ought to begin to unlove you now.” 

Winifred’s eyes were very pitiful. 

” Now you are a coward, my darling. No, I will 
say no more. Go, dear. Yes, I will write you.” 

That first letter, Hester carried about with her till 
it dropped to pieces. 

The middle of the week came a letter in response 
that went straight to Winifred’s heart, though it 
had only a dozen lines in it. The next day there 
came another. 

“ The spirit moves me to write you again,” it 
began, ” and to tell you this time something about 


Boarding-School Days. 


363 


my plans. Mother has been so dear and lovely 
about this summer. She proposed to take any one 
else I chose with us, but at first I felt I could not 
bear to have any girl now. Then she proposed to 
give up our first plan altogether and go to Canada 
and down the St. Lawrence and on to Halifax. 
But on thinking it over, I knew I was abominably 
selfish. Poor father would have to go to England 
all alone, as he has to go anyway, and he and 
mother had looked forward to taking me over this 
first time, and I knew it was a great disappointment 
to them, though neither of them would admit it. 
So now it is decided that we sail on the 20th of 
June just the same, and if Judith will come with 
us, we will take her. She was to have rather a 
lonely time this summer, up in some poky little 
place in the Catskills which her aunt loves, but where 
there is nothing on earth for Judith to do. I was 
so dreadfully happy in my own plans, that I did nT 
think much about it when Judith told me. I ’ve 
been a selfish abomination, but I ’ve written to 
Judith and I hope she ’ll go. 

I ’ve been thinking so much about Judith 
lately. Not long ago, she said to me that no one 
had ever loved her. I don’t mean she said it senti- 
mentally — does n’t that word look queer in connec- 
tion with Judith ? — but just as a matter of course. 
But since — I can’t write about it — but lately it has 
come to me with such a horror, what it would be to 
have no one, literally, to love one. No one who is 
sure to sympathize in what you like. To feel that 
no one really cares whether you stay or go. That 


364 


A Nest of Girls. 


the world is n’t sunnier for anybody because you 
are in it. Yet Judith thinks that is her case, and 
we have never taken any pains to let her know, ex- 
cept in the most general way, how much we all like 
and admire her. She is so bright and never has 
moods, and she is so clever, yet we never think of 
saying nice things to Judith. O Miss Douglas! 
do you think every one as blind as I have been ? 
Are all happy people selfish ? Why did I have to 
wait till Lorraine was snatched away from me be- 
fore I saw things ? And yet — oh, if Lorraine had 
died, it seems to me it would have been easier. But 
just to have her willing to go with some one whom 
she knew I despised, and to realize how often I 
must have bored her — it gets perfectly intolerable 
at times 1 This is only nasty pride, I suppose, but 
it hurts. I will keep my ideals. Miss Douglas, but 
how can I ever surely believe in any one’s love for 
me again ? ” 

Winifred smiled when she came to this. 

“ Dear little soul! she will learn some day, that 
Lorraine only touched the surface of her heart, 
when she realizes how she idealized her. She will 
find the friend she needs and will love her all the 
more unselfishly for this experience.” 

On Saturday Hester wrote again : 

” I have just heard from Judith and she is per- 
fectly delighted at the prospect. I was so afraid 
she would say something about taking Lorraine’s 


3^5 


Boarding-School Days. 

place, but she just writes the j oiliest kind of a letter. 
Having had the same work all winter we want to see 
just the same things. At the close she thanks me 
so pathetically for asking her, that I feel like a fraud 
of the deepest dye. She says her father told her 
she could go abroad if she knew any one to go with, 
but there was no one that she cared to join, so my 
proposal just fitted in. It 's quite a Sunday-school 
story, is n’t it ? ” 

On the same day Judith wrote to Miss Douglas: 

I am trying to collect enough fragments of my 
mind to tell you of my wonderful good luck. Hes- 
ter has asked me to go abroad with her! Father 
told me I could go if anybody I knew was going, 
but I did n’t care to start off with a party of stupid 
frumps who would n’t want to do any of the things 
I long to do. I begged him to let me go alone, 
but he would n’t hear to that sensible plan, so I 
had put on some sackcloth and was just about to 
pour on the ashes when Hester’s epistle arrived. I 
put on all my best clothes before I sat down to an- 
swer it, for I could n’t do justice to my feelings 
otherwise. Would n’t Hester be surprised if she 
knew I would be chopped up in little bits to mac- 
adamize her path if it would make it any smoother 
for her! But I ’ll take good care she never does 
know it. You know it is only since that day I 
talked with you that I ever admitted I loved her for 
it seemed so idiotic to love a person who did n’t 
care a blink of a needle’s eye for you, but I don’t 


366 


A Nest of Girls. 


mind telling you in strict confidence, that I rather 
enjoy loving her now all I want to, right out loud 
to myself. It is just like a secret that I and myself 
have together. I feel as if I were playing a beau- 
tiful joke on her. And, Miss Douglas, you ’ll prob- 
ably have difficulty in believing it, but I must be 
growing nicer or something, for my aunt told me 
to-day that I had seemed quite civilized this vaca- 
tion, and perhaps I would yet be an ornamental 
member of society. You can’t imagine how much 
this meant, coming from her, for she has always 
hated me with a most ungodly hatred. I am the 
most pointed thorn she has in her flesh, and I ’ve 
almost pricked her raw sometimes, I fancy. I do 
believe I am growing more human, somehow, for 
twice lately, when I ’ve wanted dreadfully to make 
some silly people squirm, I have chewed my tongue 
and refrained. 

“ Excitedly yours, 

“ Judith.” 

” P. S. — Do you mind if I tell you I ’d macad- 
amize a little of your path, too ? ” 


The Easter recess over, the girls flocked back, gay 
in their fresh spring gowns and flowery hats. 

“We went away — cocoons; we return — butter- 
flies,” remarked Virginia, surveying herself with 
much satisfaction in the glass in the Thistle room. 
She and Harvey Sherwood, whom she had taken 
home with her, were the first arrivals, and the two 



Page j66. 


V 





3^7 


Boarding-School Days. 

had flown into Miss Douglas’s domains as soon as 
she came. Miss Douglas, if you don’t say this 
gown is perfectly entrancing, I ’ll never forgive 
you,” flirting about the skirt of her dainty, pale- 
gray dress. She was a pretty sight with her mass 
of tawny hair piled high and an exquisite rose color 
in her delicate, freckled skin. These same freckles 
caught her attention as she studied the glass, tilting 
her head from side to side like an inquisitive robin. 

It ’s simply brutal of these spring winds to 
freckle me so,” she said, impatiently scrubbing at 
one cheek. ” If there ’s one thing I hate and de- 
spise, it ’s freckles. They ’re so plebeian. I have 
lots more than when I went away, have n’t I, Miss 
Douglas ? ” 

” Gh, Virginia! you have n’t given me a chance 
to wedge in a word yet.” 

‘ ‘ Blessed be nothing 1 ’ ’ ejaculated Judith. ' * Hav- 
ing no complexion, I am not harassed by its loss.” 

” Judith, count my freckles. I had nineteen 
when I went away.” 

” Some other time, my dear. I promised to see 
Mrs. Conway in an hour, and I don’t want to begin 
and not finish. I ’d lose count. Halloo! there ’s 
Valentine. Come in, my butterfly.” 

Valentine, who had popped in her head, now 
brought the rest of her to view. She looked as 
fresh as a flower in her cadet-blue, that set off to 


368 


A Nest of Girls. 


perfection her light-brown hair and fair skin. Her 
dress was just a shade darker than her eyes. Eleanor 
Scott, bag and umbrella in hand, was just behind her. 

“ Welcome, my children! ” said Virginia, with a 
military salute. “ I have the advantage of all of 
you, as I always make it a point to arrive early. 
Oh, Miss Douglas, do you remember how I rushed 
in here last fall when you first came and thought 
you were a new girl ? You never told me you 
were n’t, and let me make all kinds of breaks. 
You must have had fun with me! Did n’t you 
think I was frightfully fresh ? ” 

“ I have never told what Virginia said to me that 
day,” put in Valentine, smiling. ” She rushed into 
my room and ” 

” Oh, you sieve! I did n’t! ” cried Virginia, re- 
sorting to sofa-cushions. ” When is Hester com- 
ing, Miss Douglas ? ” 

” She said she thought she would be here at five. 
Let ’s have it, Valentine. First impressions are so 
interesting. No, Miss Henderson, sit still.” 

” I ’m going to tell, Virginia, so you need not 
scowl so. I always said I would, you know.” 

” If you ’re just telling for the sake of being con- 
sistent,” returned Virginia, ” we ’ll absolve you. 
” What ’s that Judith is so fond of quoting ? ‘ With 
consistency a great mind has nothing whatever to 
do.’ I think that ’s a delicious sentiment.” 


Boarding-School Days. 369 

** She said/* pursued Valentine, undeterred by 
this authority, “ that there was the sweetest look- 
ing girl in the Thistle room, and she had been in 
to see her, but she thought she must be lazy, for 
she was only going to take Literature and History, 
but she thought we 'd all like her and perhaps 
she *d brace up.” 

There was a shout of laughter at Virginia*s ex- 
pense. She took it coolly, however, only remarking : 

“ Well, I told you the truth, did n’t I ? What 
have you to say to that ? You don’t mean to in- 
sinuate that we don't like her, do you ? ” 

“ That seems very long ago, does n’t it ?” said 
Judith musingly. ” I feel very much more than a 
year older.” 

” Only about seven weeks more, and all this will 
be over,” added Valentine reflectively. 

” It does n’t seem a week since I had two years 
ahead of me.” 

” Stop, Valentina carissima ! you make me 
blue,” scolded Virginia, ” and when I take to pet 
names, you know I ’m very low.” 

“ They make me think of Romelia Dransfield. 
Anybody corresponded with her this vacation ? ” 

” I have some news of her,” laughed Virginia. 

” Dear Romelia! suppress the tears of regret for 

your past misdeeds, if you can. Some people 

whom mamma and I met last week in New York 
24 


370 


A Nest of Girls. 


know them. Live next door to them in Buffalo. 
They had seen her a day or two before, and she 
had told that she really could n’t stand it any 
longer here, for there was such a common set of 
girls. She had stayed on as long as she possibly 
could on Mrs. Conway’s account. It would be 
such a loss, financially. She wanted to leave in the 
middle of the winter, only Mrs. Conway made such 
a point of her staying. None of us have any deli- 
cacy or refinement. Romelia’s tender sensibilities 
were continually hurt.” 

There was a universal groan. 

” H’m! Frozen out,” commented Judith. “I 
never gave her credit for such good sense. She has 
raised herself up to zero in my estimation. Think 
of it, girls! With Maud Perry and Romelia Drans- 
field gone and — why, won’t we be lonesome! ” 

She had nearly said, “And Lorraine.” They 
missed the child so much already, with her sweet, 
witching ways. All of them still felt so sore over 
her that they had tacitly avoided her name. 

” Any admission ? ” cried a gay voice at the 
door, and Hester entered with her long, free, grace- 
ful step. Margaret was with her, for they had 
carefully planned their respective arrivals from 
Philadelphia and Boston so as to meet at the station 
and come up together. It was their own Hester, 
brave and bright and bonny, with her own gallant 


Boarding-School Days. 371 

carriage and rush of laughter and eager embraces 
and loving words. The girls fell on them with a 
shout, for they had not been expected for half an 
hour yet. 

“ What! all the ‘ Merry Chanters ’ here ?” ex- 
claimed Hester finally, when the hubbub of laugh- 
ing and kissing had a little subsded. “ All 
but she stopped as Judith had done. 

“ Yes, all but Lorraine,” she finished, bravely. 
” Does any one know when the child sails ? ” 

No one answered for a moment, each one waiting 
for the other to speak first. Then Miss Douglas said : 

“ I found a letter here for me when I returned. 
They sail next week. ’ ' 

“ If Maud Perry is n*t sea-sick till she ’s green, 
there ’s no justice in heaven,” broke out Virginia, 
viciously. 

” I Ve heard her say she ’s a good sailor,” said 
Margaret, with her chin up. 

” The wicked flourish like a green bay tree,” 
quoth Judith. ” We have that on excellent author- 
ity. On the same principle, I dare say they could 
sail the most emotional seas without a qualm.” 

“ Of conscience ? ” queried Eleanor. 

” I did n’t specify the qualm — though I ’d like 
the ordering of it. Mark Twain is the only person 
I ever heard of who seems to understand the mys- 
terious workings of Providence.” 


372 


A Nest of Girls. 


“ Girls,'' began Hester slowly, and something in 
the tone brought a sudden, expectant hush over 
them all; “ I want to say something once for all 
about Lorraine. I could n’t talk of her before I 
went away, but I want to now. You all know 
how I — I loved her, and it is n't a very easy thing 
to be forced to see that what you have loved is n’t 
quite what — you thought.” She was choosing her 
words with evident difficulty, but she drew a long 
breath and went on. 

” I ’ve — I ’ve lost something much more than 
Lorraine. Sometimes I feel as if she were dead — 
the child I loved! But I must get used to that, 
and the quickest way is the best way — that is, for 
you to speak of her naturally, as her name happens 
to come up. If you don’t, it will soon make a sore 
spot so that I never can bear her name.” She 
hesitated again for a moment. Her eyes were fixed 
on the etching of Sir Galahad standing by his white 
horse. Sir Galahad, knight of Ideals. 

” At first I felt as if my ideal of love and friend- 
ship was false,” the quiet, steady tones went on, 
” and that none of us would ever be true to one 
another if any test came, and — and it seemed as if 
there were no constancy but my own — and — and — 
oh, I can’t tell you all! It seemed as if the earth 
had opened and let me down. I — I have lived five 
years in the last month.” 


373 


Boarding-School Days. 

She stopped with a little catch of her breath. 
She had something else to say, though she did not 
quite know how to say it. The color had ebbed 
away from her face, but her steadfast eyes still read 
inspiration in Sir Galahad. 

I — I felt bitter and hard — oh, I can’t tell how 
bitter! But — Miss Douglas would not let me feel 
that way.” There was a quick flicker of her eye- 
lids, but she did not glance toward Winifred, who 
was gazing at her eagerly. 

” She made me see that it was narrow and — sel- 
fish, just because one had — had been mistaken, to 
say that therefore all one’s ideals were untrue. 
Just because we — we dress up our ideal in the guise 
of some person, and that person fails us — ” she half 
turned now, and looked straight in Winifred’s 
shining eyes, — ” it does not therefore mean that 
our ideal is false ! Perhaps it will only be the purer 
and stronger for the disappointment. Oh, I see it 
now! We must be true to Truth! ” 

A new glow and fire came into the lustrous eyes 
as the few broken words ceased. Winifred sat in 
startled love and reverence for the valiant young 
soul that with such high courage had learned life’s 
first hard lesson — the lesson so much harder than 
one in material things. She knew, as they all did, 
what it cost a nature like Hester’s to attempt to 
put all this into words, however few. That she 


374 


A Nest of Girls. 


had been mistaken and deceived was a terribly hard 
thing for this proud young spirit to own, yet this 
was nothing to the hurt of the sore, bruised heart 
that had poured out with lavish prodigality its 
wealth of unexacting love. 

The girls looked at her breathlessly. Every one 
felt her own courage rise and her heart swell with 
the inspiration of the beautiful brave face and gal- 
lant bearing of the leader they loved so well. 
Surely here, as ever, they would follow where her 
banner led ! 

With a quick impulse Margaret stretched out her 
hand to Hester and the other to Virginia who was 
nearest. In an instant the little band, sweeping 
Winifred in with them, had gathered in a circle with 
clasped hands. 

“ So we are the * Merry Chanters,* now and for- 
ever! ” cried Hester with a quick change of voice. 
‘‘ Here *s to our long life and prosperity! *’ 

“ Hurrah! ’* they all shouted. 

“ Captain Hester, forever ! ** cried Margaret 
fervently, and again they all shouted “ Hurrah! ’* 
I move — *’ broke out Judith, but the president 
promptly interrupted. 

** Please come to order. The meeting is called. 
Preliminaries are supposed to be over. Miss 
Champney has the floor.” 

Hester whirled herself up on the table which was 


Boarding-School Days. 


375 


still denuded of its usual ornaments, and pounded 
gayly with a tooth-brush. The others settled them- 
selves with a dexterity born of long practice. 

Miss Champney. ” 

If the Chair pleases, I wish to make some mo- 
tions. First, that we, as a club, commonly called 
the ‘ Merry Chanters,’ which name we owe to the 
fertile brain of our beloved Mr. Stockton, and to its 
peculiar fittedness — I mean fitness — to the unusual 
musical ability of said Chanters, as well as to the 
impregnable gayety of our various but always 
Cheeryble dispositions, firstly, that we, as the 
aforesaid club before mentioned, do, thirdly, send, 
devise, bequeath, and bestow on him and his heirs 
forever, meaning the aforesaid and before-mentioned 
Mr. Stockton, the position of honorary member of 
this honorable club, and, lastly, of the senior class 
of St. Ursula’s School of 1898; secondly, that we 
get Mrs. Conway’s permission to do it at once; and 
to conclude, that we, unanimously and altogether, 
confer the same on Miss Douglas! ” 

There was a breathless pause for the digestion of 
the above, and then such vociferous applause and 
seconding of the motions that the president could 
scarcely command silence even by the most vigor- 
ous use of the toothbrush. At last her voice made 
itself heard. 

“ As everybody appears to have seconded the 


376 


A Nest of Cirls. 


motions, I conclude there is no use putting them to 
vote,” she said. ” However — those in favor, say 
Yes. Contrary-minded — Miss Douglas, it gives me 
much pleasure to announce that you are unani- 
mously elected a member of the August Society of 
the Merry Chanters from this time forth. The dues 
are nil. The duties, likewise. The privileges ” 

” Beyond calculation,” said Judith unabashedly 
interrupting the president. ” Miss Douglas, here 's 
my hand with my heart in it, for a welcome. You 
may attend all the meetings that are open to the 
public.” 

” And Eleanor Scott and Harvey are to be 
elected regular members at the next meeting,” 
broke in Virginia, the irrepressible. ” Oh, I know 
that is n’t parliamentary, Miss President, but it 
won’t hurt them to know it.” 

No one could avoid seeing, as the days went by, 
that Hester was adding a new, rare sweetness to 
the fascination of her frank, free independence and 
gallant spirit. There was an added gentleness and 
tenderness in her manner, a new touch of adorable 
humility. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


JUNE. 


HAT a wild rush those last six swift, de- 



licious, sorrowful, eager, busy, dreamy 


weeks were! How crowded full with every con- 
trary emotion one could feel ! 

“ The weeks are made up of Sundays, Wednes- 
days, and Saturdays,” Virginia said, ” and here is 
May. That consists of the first, the fifteenth, and 
elm-tree worms.” 

The Thirtieth brought the great social feature of 
the school year — the reception to Miss Bennett’s 
girls. Decoration Day fell on Monday, and on 
Saturday fully half the girls went out into the 
country with some of the teachers, and came back 
with their arms full of lovely trailing things for 
decoration. The old-gold silk, the school color of 
St. Ursula’s, was perfection for the purpose of 
adornment among the vines and palms and drooping 
Florida ferns that turned the stately drawing rooms 
of the fine old colonial mansion into a dream of 
beauty. The study-parlor was transformed into a 
succession of distracting little nooks by means of 
screens and divans and palms. Music from New 


377 


378 


A Nest of Girls. 


York and supper from Frost’s left nothing to be 
desired from a girlish standpoint. 

The girls from each school, with brothers and 
friends galore, made a long invitation-list, and by 
half-past nine the great rooms were filled to over- 
flowing. The filmy white dresses of the girls, with 
just a little sprinkling of blue and yellow and green 
and rose-color contrasting with the black coats of 
the men, the dash and vivacity and beauty, with the 
inimitable flash and color and sparkle and youth, 
the very absence of jewels, the richer dresses of the 
chaperones, gave a peculiar picturesqueness and 
flavor to the glancing, shifting scene that is only to 
be seen in perfection in a gathering of the teens. 

‘*Are n’t these girls simply distractingly lovely ? ” 
murmured Mrs. Conway proudly, to Mrs. Henry, as 
they stood together. “ Of all the receptions we have 
had, surely there never was one so beautiful as this ! ” 

“ Oh, Hilary! you say that every year! ” said 
Mrs. Henry teasingly. 

Mrs. Conway laughed. 

** But this time it ’s true. Yes, I know that 
every year I think I cannot possibly have so dear a 
set of girls again. I think girls get more fascinating 
every year.” 

“ And you have been at the head of this institu- 
tion — how many years? You valiant soul! you 
queen among wom^n! And you still keep your 


Boarding-School Days. 


379 


girlish enthusiasm for these women-children ! Hil- 
ary, you would bring the best out of a stone, simply 
by believing in its intention to do its best, you 
glorious creature ! 

Mrs. Henry spoke with all the abandonment of a 
girl herself, as she dwelt with a look of loyal love 
and admiration at the gracious, queenly figure be- 
side her, clad in white velvet and point-lace, with 
opals and diamonds for jewels. The snow-white 
hair was coiled high on the stately head, with a 
silver comb of curious workmanship. Mrs. Con- 
way never dressed more handsomely than for her 
girls. With her rich color and smooth-browed face 
and shining, sapphire eyes, she looked as if she had 
just stepped out of an old French picture. 

** Oh, my Hilary! ” Mrs. Henry said, sighing for 
very delight in her friend, what a crown of glory 
to you is the enthusiastic love and reverence of 
these girls! You have been a blessing to the world 
from the moment you came into it! 

Mrs. Conway impulsively put out her hand with a 
touch of the girlishness that was such a charm about 
her, and both women were silent for a moment. Mrs. 
Henry’s mind flew back to the days that she had 
crept, a homesick, frightened child of fifteen, in her 
first school-days, to the shelter of those protecting 
arms, when Hilary Meredith, herself but a child, but 
with a heart that ever took in everything that 


380 


A Nest of Girls. 


sorrowed, had comforted her with a tenderness that 
forgot her own homesick loneliness. Into Mrs. Con- 
way’s eyes there crept the momentary, far-away look 
that was often there. She saw before her the bright 
young lover of her youth, the husband on whom she 
had flung her heart and the violet-eyed, gold-haired 
baby for whose sweet sake she loved and cherished 
all the bright girl-natures with whom she surrounded 
herself. 

But instantly she roused herself. Hester passed 
at the moment. Her dress was of pale green silk, 
for flimsy draperies did not suit her somewhat 
statuesque style. The girl was absolutely dazzling 
to-night, with the contrast of her snow-white skin, 
her color like a sea-shell, her lustrous violet eyes 
and purple black hair. 

“What a unique creature that girl is!” Mrs. 
Henry said, following the other’s gaze. “ That 
combination is so unusual and so striking.” 

“She is precisely like her mother, and it runs 
through the whole family. The characteristics are 
very strongly marked, even to the dimple in their 
square chins. Some cousins who were here had the 
same. Yes, Hester is glorious to-night. Ordinary 
adjectives never seem to suit her.” 

Hilary, confess! you claim never to have a 
favorite, but if Hester Cameron does not come near 
it then I don’t know you ! ” 


38i 


Boarding-School Days. 

Mrs. Conway looked suddenly deprecating and 
almost shamefaced, as her friend turned a mis- 
chievous, laughing glance upon her. 

O Muriel! don’t tell me I show it! There is 
no girl in school I am so hard on as Hester! ” 

“Be at ease, dear. I am sure the girls do not 
suspect it. Katharine often speaks of the fact that 
you are exactly the same to all. Indeed, they seem 
to think you do require a good deal of the girl. 
This dance is over, and here comes Katharine. 
Are you having a good time, love ? ” 

Mrs. Conway went on her way through the 
crowded rooms, for it was after eleven and she 
could leave her post in the reception-room. She 
passed Virginia, radiant and laughing, who was so 
absorbed in fastening a flower in Mr. Trent’s button- 
hole that she never saw her pass, while he had no 
eyes but for the saucy, sparkling face near his own. 
Margaret was near, promenading with Jack Churchill 
during the pause petween the dances. Her gray 
eyes looked like black to-night in her excitement ; 
her bright brown hair was twisted high around a 
little gold hairpin ; her white mull with its lace neck 
and sleeves suited her exactly ; her changeful face 
was dimpling all over as she told some story in 
her soft, musical voice, punctuated with ripples 
of laughter. The young man was listening with 
many bursts of merriment. 


382 


A Nest of Girls. 


** Tell it all over again,” he demanded, in delight 
over her soft Boston accent. 

Mr. Churchill! you ’re worse than the children. 
Whatever we tell them it always is, ‘tell me aden ! ’ ” 

“ That ’s just what I want. Miss Ward. Please 
go on ! ” 

“You ’re laughing at me!” flashed Margaret 
suspiciously. 

“ Indeed, I ’m not! ” For Margaret’s voice and 
accent fascinated him. He would have enjoyed 
hearing Mother Goose rhymes in those rippling, 
musical tones. “ Tell me more about that delight- 
ful little Cricket sister and the twins.” And Mar- 
garet, nothing loath, chattered on. 

Harvey had a whole bevy of students around her 
and was just in her element. Her pale yellow mull 
set her off to perfection. Her dreamy, absent man- 
ner had vanished, and she was all sparkle and 
witchery. Her card was so full that she had to 
split all her dances. 

Judith, to Mrs. Conway’s amusement, seemed to 
have captivated the staid and gray-haired Professor 
of Biology, and he was wiping tears of laughter 
from his eyes. If Judith ever looked well, she did 
so to-night. Mrs. Conway had chosen her dress 
herself, for neither Judith nor her aunt had a par- 
ticle of taste in dress, and the girl knew it. It was 
part of Mrs. Conway’s unfailing consideration to 


Boarding-School Days. 383 

take this into account and to take pains to make 
the most of the girl. So her dress was of pink silk, 
of heavier and richer material than girls better en- 
dowed physically should have worn, to give her a 
little added presence and dignity. The color lent a 
tinge of its own to her pale cheeks. The straight, 
fine, light hair was loosened from its usual plainness 
— again at Mrs. Conway’s insistence — and softened 
the sharp outline of the thin face. The conscious- 
ness of her power to attract and interest when she 
chose, despite her lack of beauty, gave her self- 
possession, and the customary sharpness of her 
words was replaced by a trenchant shrewdness 
oddly at variance with her nineteen years. The 
Professor of Biology evidently found her interest- 
ing, for Mrs. Conway heard him say later to a 
brother-worker : 

“ I must find that clever little girl again — Champ- 
ney’s daughter — have you seen her ? Wonder 
where Champney ’s kept her all this time ? Never 
saw her before. Told me some of the best stories 
possible of her father’s absent-mindedness. Wants 
to study medicine. Asked me the most intelligent 
questions. There she is. Let us go and talk to 
her.” 

Valentine and Eleanor Scott were near together 
all the evening, for the bond between them had 
strengthened rapidly these last three months, and 


3^4 


A Nest of Girls. 


they were not long happy apart. Valentine was 
too quiet and too indifferent to be very attractive 
in society until she should learn to show more in- 
terest in her partners. Her qualities were of the 
order that one must know well to care for them. 
Younger girls, however, who always are drawn to 
some one who lets herself be worshipped, naturally 
gravitated towards her, and she was sure to be the 
centre of a little group of adoring juniors. 

Mrs. Conway smiled a little to herself as she noted 
the different girls. 

“ I should not be surprised if Valentine Clifford 
were the very first to marry out of that whole set,” 
she thought, and the event proved her right. Then 
Winifred came into view. She was in organdie and 
lace, her big Irish-blue eyes shining under their 
long lashes and the pink a little deepened in her 
cheeks. Mrs. Conway looked at her lovingly, for 
her young assistant had grown dear to her. 

She is a girl after my own heart,” she thought 
musingly. “ If no one carries her off, how I should 
love to train her to take my place ! But she is far 
too attractive for me to hope for that.” 

So the evening wore on. 

And now Decoration Day, also, lay in the past, 
and there were only two weeks more to Commence- 
ment. The whirl of days went faster and ever 


385 


Boarding-School Days. 

faster. The senior class could hardly bear to be 
out of one another’s sight. They walked about in 
clusters. They clung around their favorite teachers. 
They kissed each other good-night. They treated 
one another with distinguished politeness. But 
there were no more long talks ; the time for these 
was over. There was instead chatter and broken 
sentences and impetuous embraces apropos of 
nothing, and appointments for the summer and 
future plans and comparisons of Commencement 
gowns, and principally — examinations. Then these 
were over, too, with Friday night, and the girls for 
the first time in weeks drew a long breath of leisure. 
The year’s work was practically done. 

“ Think! ” exclaimed Judith. “ We ’ll be doing 
all this, Hester, four years from now, only more 
so ! ” 

It was the last Sunday evening, and the girls 
were all in the school parlor between tea and pray- 
ers. The “ Merry Chanters ” were in their special 
window. 

“Thank goodness, I won’t!” cried Virginia, 
fervently. “ I ’d be a subject for the State Asylum. 
If I had to stand much more of this harrowing, 
I ’d be a gibbering idiot.” 

“ Don’t grumble,’’ admonished Judith. “ If you 
had to deal in ‘ futures ’ as I have, with such an un- 
certain set as you all are, you might talk.” 

25 


386 


A Nest of Girls. 


Judith was class prophet. 

“ Futures are no worse than pasts,” retorted Vir- 
ginia, who was class historian. ” They 're better, 
indeed, for you can make up any old thing for a 
future, but the past needs very careful doctoring to 
make it presentable.” 

” What ’s all that compared to the necessity of 
arousing poetic fire ? ” demanded Eleanor, who was 
class poet. 

” But, oh, girls!” sighed Hester, the valedictor- 
ian, ” what 's any of that compared to saying good- 
bye to you all and our beloved St. Ursula’s! ” 

They were suddenly silent. They could not talk 
of this now. 

” Caroline Adams, with her salutatory, has really 
the easiest part,” began Margaret briskly. They 
must not be silent. As Margaret had been there 
only one year, she did not graduate, although 
she had done most of the work with the senior 
class. 

” The last Sunday night! ” groaned Eleanor. 

” Shut up!” ordered Judith savagely. Then 
she went on hastily : 

” Don’t let ’s forget that we are to write to Miss 
Douglas an official statement of our whereabouts 
and circumstances for her register every year for ten 
years, and then we ’ll meet and compare notes in a 
bunch,” 


Boarding-School Days. 387 

And so they did, but one of their number was not 
there. 

** Do you know, girls,” began Hester wistfully, 
” that one of the saddest things about our parting, 
to me, is that with our college life and different 
circumstances and all that, we shall make new 
friends whom we shall love dearly — perhaps as well 
as we love each other now ” 

But the girls fell on her with a howl and would 
not let her finish that heresy. When did the teens 
ever believe that any love could equal their first 
loves ? But Hester had sometimes a flash of wis- 
dom beyond her years. 

” Hester, my angel,” asserted Virginia finally, 
” almost thou persuadeth me to go to Wellesley 
with thee, and that ’s the proofiest proof I can 
give thee of my unspeakable affection for thy sweet 
self.” 

” Don't be a goose, Virginia, for if you were per- 
suaded into anything so wild, your devotion would 
become so unspeakable in about a week that you 
would take the first train for home, to avoid address- 
ing me. No, find your trillionaire, and be happy.” 

” The bell for prayers! ” 

” Oh, that bell! Think of never ” 

“ I say!” 


Then Commencement. Fair, dazzling, brilliant. 


388 


A Nest of Girls. 


as June days should be. The Class-Day exercises; 
the class poem ; the class history ; the class proph- 
ecy; the presentation of gifts, funny, witty, or 
suggestive, each commemorating some girlish weak- 
ness or some past prank; the class lunch with Mrs. 
Conway, when the pretty tables were spread in the 
back parlor. Then Commencement Day itself. 
What can be said that has not been said a thousand 
times ? The crowd again, the expectancy, the 
music, the eager, beautiful young faces; the salu- 
tatory, Mrs. Conway’s tender, loving address to the 
girls who had been so long under her care; the 
speech by the famous author, who, as an old friend 
of their principal, had consented to honor them; 
the granting of the diplomas; then Hester’s vale- 
dictory. 

Mrs. Conway sat on the stage, glowing with eager 
pride in her best-loved girl; at the clear young 
voice ; at the manner, at once full of quiet dignity 
and charm, yet vibrating with enthusiasm ; at the 
rush of the words, showing a power and thought 
rare at nineteen. The sweet voice faltered a little 
at the words of appreciation of all the care and love 
that had been bestowed on them during the years 
at St. Ursula’s; at the eager tribute to their Head; 
at the farewell to her, to their teachers, to one 
another. The tears filled Hester’s eyes as she 
turned to leave the stage. 


Boarding-School Days. 389 

** And I 've nothing but this lace abomination 
to cry into ! ” whispered Virginia savagely to Mar- 
garet. “ What does Hester mean by making such 
geese of us all ? Oh, you needn’t look so fierce, 
Judith Champney! I saw you sniffing! There ’s 
Miss Roberts, with her nose actually red. Miss 
Douglas, I ’ve got to cry on to this corner of your 
handkerchief. Mine is as wet as sops. Oh, Mrs. 
Conway, did you ever see anything so glorious, so 
— so — utterly unspeakable as our Hester! ” 

There were crushed costumes and limp lace hand- 
kerchiefs and reddened eyes. There were tears and 
laughter and chattering and choked voices. There 
were departing guests and the clatter of good-byes 
and the roll of carriages. There was the scattering 
to rooms and the rush of changing dresses, and the 
flinging last things into trunks already stuffed to 
bursting, and the click of keys. There was the in- 
vasion of the baggagemen. 

Then there were empty rooms and torn bits of 
drapery and faded flowers and drooping garlands — 
and then, silence. 

The year is over. ’Ninety-eight has gone out 
from her irresponsible girlhood, and frolic, and mer- 
riment, and study, and friendships, and dependence, 
over the magic line into the misty realm of the 
grown-up world. Into the independence of college 
life, the gayety of society, the claims of home 


390 


A Nest of Girls. 


duties, the wooing o* it, the preparation, in dead 
earnest, for the equipment of Life’s unyielding 
exactments, step lightly out, in gay self-confidence, 
the blithe young souls, with colors flying, heads 
well up, hearts and courage high, sounding the in- 
variable watchword of youth, We conquer, or we 
die!” 

The year is gone. Let us go, too. 


EPILOGUE. 


W HAT happened next ? 

Had Judith Champney been endowed with 
the veritable vision of a seer in her clever prophecies 
of tlie class futures, what would she have seen ? 
Let us take a look for ourselves through the magic 
glass. 

Who first ? It is Valentine Clifford who crosses 
our field of vision; Valentine, whose path leads on- 
ward through roses. There are wedding-bells and 
they are loud and clear, for they are very near us. 
Before tvelve months are over, Valentine is a bride. 
Her fate is lurking on the steamer, disguised in the 
person o^ that clever young banker whose career 
has been 30 phenomenal. Inherited wealth has ac- 
cumulated more wealth and it is Valentine who lives 
in a Golden House and who sails around the world 
in her prvate yacht; Valentine, who is obliged, 
much against her will, to make a fine art of her 
dressing aid a science of entertaining. New York, 
Washingtcn, then the diplomatic circles of England 
grow famiiar with her face, for her husband, the 
wealthy baaker, becomes Secretary of the Treasury; 
then Ambassador to the Court of St. James. Her 
391 


392 


A Nest of Girls. 


fair, serene face, with its never absent hint of wist- 
fulness, looks out at one from society journals; from 
photographer's cases; from “ Collections of Well- 
known American Women." The touch of hauteur 
that had been noticeable in her girlish manner, that 
was never hauteur, but genuine shyness and self- 
distrust and reserve, has ripened into a charming 
dignity and graciousness that people call the air of 
one born to the purple. Her husband, who /ell in 
love at first sight with the quiet, indifferent girl, 
who neither sought nor avoided him, has adored her 
ever since. She is never demonstrative nor enthu- 
siastic, but lets herself be worshipped with a sweet 
seriousness and toleration that rivets his cha/ns more 
closely. He is so proud of her! She g/eets the 
Italian and French members of the diplomatic corps 
in their respective tongues, plays distraaingly for 
the music-loving Germans and rememqers every 
gradation of bow and smile ; such a wife ij a fortune 
in herself in the diplomatic ranks, nlr Puritan 
conscientiousness obliges her to fulfil e^ery social 
duty and function as if it were a religious claim ; but 
Valentine sometimes grows deadly weafy of it all. 
She would have made an ideal poor mar|s wife with 
her simple tastes and domestic inclinations. She 
sometimes tells her husband this, wistfujly, and im- 
plores him, with a laugh that has in it ajhint of real 
longing, to grow poor enough to afford to live in a 


Boarding-School Days. 393 

little, vine-clad suburban cottage, with only two 
maids and a pony-cart. 

To her girlhood friends she clings passionately. 
She has made them royally welcome in all her gor- 
geous homes, and often begs and entreats that one 
of them shall be always with her, and grieves with 
tears in her heart that this is impossible. When 
they do her the great favor to visit her, as she her- 
self puts it, she heaps upon them every honor she 
can devise. Every imaginable form of entertain- 
ment is arranged for them. They are the guests 
whom she most delights to honor. Her husband, 
eagerly pleased with anything that gives his darling 
a moment’s pleasure, exceeds her in hospitality. 

She is educating Eleanor’s eldest boy, named for 
her, Valentine. She is helping Katharine Henry in 
her many philanthropic schemes, for Katharine has 
turned her beautiful old home, so much too large 
for two people, after her father’s death, into a home 
for the convalescent poor who have no place to get 
well in. Then, when she marries Alec Trent, Val- 
entine’s munificent endowment enables the home to 
be carried on permanently. Valentine would have 
rescued Virginia from her sore straits, and wrote in 
eager haste imploring her to come to them and 

stay forever,” but Virginia is proud and will let 
no one help her. Valentine is Judith Champney’s 
right hand in her constant needs for her poor, and 


394 


A Nest of Girls. 


many a struggling girl does she send to college on 
Hester’s recommendation. 

“ I am so lonely!” she says sometimes patheti- 
cally. “ No one has time to play with me! ” 

Valentine has no children. Year by year the 
wistful look deepens in her eyes. 

Turn the glass. Who comes next ? It is Eleanor 
Scott who advances. What is the setting of her 
scene ? It is Oriental — Persian. In the summer of 
her graduation from Vassar, a bold young clergyman 
storms and carries her heart. Incidentally he car- 
ries her off, also, to the wilds of Persia, where he is 
engaged in missionary work, into which he throws 
the same fire and energy which he did into his rapid 
courtship and marriage and with the same success. 
Virginia insists he startles the natives into Christian- 
ity. His logic is irresistible and his voice would 
inveigle a bird into his very pocket. The natives 
call him a name which, being interpreted, means 
“tornado,” but worship him not only for his power, 
but for his intense earnestness and devotion to his 
cause, traits that speak all languages. No vacilla- 
tion for Eleanor now. Like Sydney Smith’s 
“ Bunch,” she must know at once whether she pre- 
fers roast duck or roast goose. But Eleanor hugs 
her chains and her husband, her five splendid boys, 
and flings herself into her husband’s work with an 


Boarding-School Days. 395 

ever-increasing love and enthusiasm. Her face 
keeps its outline of angelic innocence for which it 
was famous in her prankiest days in school or col- 
lege, and the natives call her a name that signifieth 
“ a moonbeam.’' Once in three years she comes 
home, bringing her sheaves with her in the shape of 
her stalwart lads. Valentine longs to adopt them, 
one and all, and begs for the eldest, at least ; but all 
that Eleanor and her husband can consent to, is 
that poor Valentine ” shall be allowed to provide 
for her namesake, and to have the oversight of the 
others as they are sent home, one by one, to be 
educated. Valentine thanks them almost on her 
knees for their great goodness to her. 

Ah ! What does the glass show next ? The 
white flowers that deck equally bride and burial are 
heaped in profusion over a white casket and a 
funeral dirge creeps to our ears. Short, too short, 
is Harvey’s little pilgrimage in the world, for while 
the bells ring a wedding peal for Valentine, they 
tolled a knell for Harvey Sherwood. Give lilies 
with full hands. She was soon to know the mys- 
teries of that other world into which her dreamy 
eyes seemed searching. Turn the glass. The tears 
blind. 


Who could mistake the small, slight figure that 


396 


A Nest of Girls. 


passes now ? It has light, straight hair and a thin, 
freckled face, and a wide, whimsical mouth, which 
screws itself on occasion to one side in just the old, 
provoking fashion. Bryn-Mawr delights to crown 
its brilliant graduate with honors. The little, insig- 
nificant thing carries all before her. Then, before 
she enters upon her Medical course, she takes the 
two years’ training for a nurse in one of the great 
hospitals in New York. 

‘ ‘ I want to know it all, ’ ’ she says. 

Then comes the Medical College and then study 
in Germany for a year or two. Thirty sees her 
equipped, as few people are, for her life-work. Her 
specialty is eye and ear surgery, and when she is 
offered a chair in her medical Alma Mater, she ac- 
cepts it, after some consideration, amid the inextin- 
guishable laughter of those who remember that Judith 
would rather “ sweep out ferry-boats ” than teach. 

He is a fool who cannot change his mind,” she 
remarks, tranquilly, to those who cruelly remind 
her of this fact. ” It is my duty. So few people 
know how to teach. The professor we had in this 
subject knew no more how to impart his knowledge 
than a wasp can tell you how to make paper. I 
have discovered that I can teach.” It is true, 
and she says it with the grave acceptance of her own 
powers — that is as far removed from conceit as 
when in her girlish days she had been accustomed 


Boarding-School Days. 


397 


to say that the “ Merry Chanters ” were the braini- 
est ” girls in school. Abilities that one is born with, 
one cannot be conceited about, is Judith’s code. 
They are to be accepted like the color of one’s hair 
or the shape of one’s face, with the addition that it 
is simply a disgrace if one does not make the most 
of them. 

Her latest technical work is an authority already 
on the subject, for Dr. Champney is a surgeon of 
the first water. Those long, firm, white fingers, 
sensitive as a blind man’s and tender as a rose-leaf, 
have performed the rarest operations. She fails 
chiefly in dealing with nervous diseases, fancied or 
real. Judith always needs the tangible to work on. 

Dr. Champney is a tonic and a composing-draiight 
by turns. Her passing down the hospital wards is 
like a whiff of keen, October wind. Tired eyes 
brighten, limp figures try to straighten, fretful 
moaning ceases. Weary nurses smile and turn to 
their never-ending struggle with death, with re- 
newed vigor. Does not Dr. Champney know every 
throb of their swollen feet and every thrill of their 
worn nerves, racked by the constant sight of soul- 
and-body-wrenching agony ? She suggests, com- 
forts, cheers, advises, praises, blames gently, though 
unsparingly, when need be — and thinks of no one 
less than she does of Judith Champney, M.D. 

Sometimes she flies over to England for a hasty 


398 


A Nest of Girls. 


visit to Valentine, especially when some case has 
been particularly on her mind and she wants some 
material help. Judith never has much of a bank 
account herself. Too many other people have press- 
ing needs. But she always has a moment to spare 
for Hester, who is ever her heart’s dearest, though 
the latter suspects it as little now as in her school- 
days. No college chum — and Judith proved unex- 
pectedly popular in college — ever usurps Hester’s 
place. Judith Champney has one end and aim in 
life, — to serve God and help her fellow-woman. 

The screw again. Adjust the glass. That is 
right. Ah ! the glass is misty. What is this ? 
Tears? ah! tears! But no one sees them save 
those who look through the magic glass which shows 
all things truly. Virginia ever scorns to accept pity. 
What are the first pictures ? There is first a round 
of gayety for two years, when she leaves St. Ur- 
sula’s. Life is a mad midsummer’s dream. Has it 
no responsibilities, no cares, no sorrows, no hearts 
to help, no work to do ? No, none, says Virginia 
merrily. Life means enjoyment. Oh, silly college 
girls, to work so hard when this bright, fair world 
might be yours for the taking ! Come, dance with 
me ! 

Ah! look! without one instant’s warning, the 
pictures change — darken — blacken. They are all 


399 


Boarding-School Days. 

crossing on their homeward trip, after a few weeks 
abroad. Father, mother, and sister. Oh, the wild 
tragedy of that night, when the great liner goes 
down with all on board! How does it happen ? 
The secret lies beneath the waves that wash above 
them. 

Virginia is one of the half-dozen that are rescued 
after twelve hours of floating horror. To the last 
day of her life she never alludes to that night. 

She is saved. Alone she goes back to her deso- 
late home. Margaret Ward, although her marriage 
is not far off, flies to her. Virginia is singularly 
alone in the world. One elderly and indigent cousin 
is all the relative she possesses, but she is only too 
glad to play duenna. It is weeks before the crushed 
and stricken look fades in the smallest degree. 
Such living horrors are slow to vanish. Then one 
morning, Virginia awakes to find herself penniless. 
Whose fault ? Some one’s bad judgment. Some 
one’s lack of perception of the difference between 
meum et tuum. Or — some one has blundered. 

The tawny head goes high. The eyes that had 
been full of sorrow and longing take on a gleam of 
defiance. 

Is that your game ?” she says to Fate. “ Let 
us see if two can play at it.” 

She will accept no aid, though Valentine comes 
flying up from Washington to beg, implore, entreat. 


400 


A Nest of Girls. 


command, that she will return home with her and 
stay with her always. Her husband advises it. 
She would feel that life was worth living if she 
could make it tolerable again for her old friend. 
But Virginia laughs it off. She will not even pre- 
tend that she thinks the other is in earnest, which 
hurts Valentine to the core. She so longs to share 
her good fortune! She does not know that it is 
only that Virginia’s pride is up, and she will not 
give in to Fate, and crawl into the first hole offered. 

Virginia only lets Valentine’s husband buy her 
house and all it contains, save a few personal be- 
longings. She knows it is worth the money she 
lets him give. Her mother’s fastidious taste had 
filled the house with furniture and bric-a-brac rare 
and valuable. But most of the-money goes to sat- 
isfy the claims that exist in some mysterious way 
against the estate. “If I had only understood 
business! ’’ Virginia moans. 

She consents to go for a short visit to Margaret, for 
she wishes to consult Dr. Ward on the one plan that 
strikes her as a feasible way of earning a livelihood. 
Mrs. Conway had written her at once to come to her 
and she would make her useful in a hundred ways, 
but Virginia refuses. 

“ I hate teaching, and I don’t know enough. 
Judith used to say she would rather go out with 
dancing bears and I agree with her. No, I ’ll be a 


Boarding-School Days. 401 

nurse. It 's the only thing I can be supported in, 
while learning the business.'' 

The Wards welcome her with open hearts. She 
has often visited Margaret in happier days, and they 
love the bright, tricksey creature, with her indomit- 
able pluck. Even with all the awful experience of 
six months before, her whimsicalities are still there, 
her drolleries are the same as ever, her surface light- 
ness is unchanged. Dr. Ward is not even sure that 
she is in earnest about the work she wants to take 
up, for she makes such a joke of it. Ah! Virginia 
knows that if she does not make light of the future 
and crush the past out of sight, that the burden of 
the present will overwhelm her. But Donald Ward 
understands. 

“ Only look at her eyes, father, under all their 
fun! She 's in deadly earnest!" And Donald 
knows, for he has studied the depths of those same 
eyes with praiseworthy intentness — doubtless for 
scientific purposes. Donald would solve the ques- 
tion right speedily if the matter were left to him, 
but what can a young fellow in college do, with 
a law school still before him ? Besides, Virginia yet 
has visions, dim, yet constant, of her Golden House. 

She goes into the training-school for nurses. 
Does she like the work ? She would be drawn and 
quartered before she would confess, after she has 
embarked on it, how dreadful it is to her. 

26 


once 


402 


A Nest of Girls. 


She, the petted, luxuriously bred girl, is, of course, 
set to the menial tasks that are the lot of every pro- 
bationer. She is on her feet for twelve mortal hours 
at a stretch. All the nurses are. She has no time 
for reading, and barely that for the studying re- 
quired. When her hour off comes, she is too ex- 
hausted to do anything but fall on her bed and 
sleep. She has never been a strong girl, though 
always well. She has never thought anything of 
dancing all night, but it is altogether a different 
thing, she finds, to be up all night when one comes 
home to a maid and hot chocolate, to be rubbed 
and put to bed to sleep till one wakes in the morn- 
ing. Her feet grow more and more lame till she 
has the trouble known as “ nurses’ flat foot.” She 
has to bandage the pretty members, now swollen, 
and aching, and fiery, for they feel as if the bones 
were splitting. 

Her only relief is to fly to her^^thful friends, the 
Wards. They do all they can to make her life en- 
durable, but it is a tense and exacting life at best. 
Margaret is married, and thus Virginia loses one of 
her great comforts, but the younger sisters. Cricket 
and Eunice, are absolute devotion. They always 
carry her off on her free Sundays, but often, when 
she is captured, she is far too tired to do anything 
but drop on a couch and sleep. She could sleep 
now standing on her head in the Cave of the 


Boarding-School Days. 


403 


Winds, she avers. Dr. Ward watches her anxiously 
and does what he can to relieve the strain, but she 
steadily droops under it. It is like putting a race- 
horse to the plow. 

She does not have the inspiration that braces 
Judith, when two years later she does the same 
thing. J udith is sturdier and wirier in build and is 
physically better fitted to endure, and she knows, 
moreover, that it is only an experience that will 
be over when she leaves the wards. She is, too, 
profoundly and scientifically interested in the 
manifestations of disease. What to Virginia is an 
intolerable horror, fills Judith with scientific delight. 
The body feels no fatigue when the mind is actively 
at work, and Judith passionately loves even the oper- 
ating room, which is a horror unspeakable to Virginia. 

But she lives through it. We have a way of liv- 
ing through all things till our appointed time. She 
graduates. Then she takes a rest. Valentine, in 
answer to a note from Mrs. Ward, hinting that now 
was her time, comes on in a special car and over- 
bearing the tired will and nerveless body, carries 
her away to a quiet nook in the mountains, and 
tends and nurses her back to health. All that love 
and money can shower down is freely, no, eagerly 
given, while Valentine daily thanks Virginia for be- 
ing so good as to stay with her. Valentine is one 
of the many women to whom no man can supply 


404 


A Nest of Girls. 


all her heart craves. There are corners that no man 
can fill. It is by no means a question of love, for 
Valentine loves her husband devotedly. It is only 
that he — is not enough. This is the kind of woman 
of whom we say, “ She is a mother rather than a 
wife.” The kind of woman who merges her whole 
being into her children’s lives. Valentine has no 
children. 

But the time comes when Virginia is ready to 
fling the gauntlet at Fate again. She does not feel 
disgraced that she has had to rest. Every one has 
to rest — except Fate. So sometimes she takes ad- 
vantage of us. She thinks we are beaten when we 
are only tired. Virginia knew better. 

“ Cases ” fill two dreary, dreary years, but no one 
save Virginia knows just how she regards them. 
They are long, tiresome cases, generally, not those 
requiring great skill. Virginia, with all her hard 
work, is not a born nurse, and doctors must discrim- 
inate. However, in nervous troubles she is worth 
her weight in gold, and fortunately her patients 
think so also. She is making her way well. With 
a hypochondriacal invalid she finally goes to Cali- 
fornia, where her patient unexpectedly and incon- 
siderately dies, right in the face of every prediction. 
Virginia alone was not surprised, for her charge had 
always been contrary-minded. Fate does not neg- 
lect this fine opening and an opportune epidemic of 


405 


Boarding-School Days. 

typhoid fever in the hotel gives her a temporary 
advantage which she is not slow to seize. Oh, the 
dreary siege that follows, alone and unknown in a 
distant land ! Is the result worth the fight ? Vir- 
ginia is not certain when three months later she 
starts across the continent, leaving practically all 
her painfully acquired savings behind her. She re- 
ports for work at Dr. Ward’s office, to his over- 
whelming surprise — for Virginia has chosen to have 
silence kept all these long months — all thin and 
white and worn, and her pretty hair short, and tragic 
hollows in her cheeks. 

He takes her home, for a visit is the only employ- 
ment he will consent to consider. Metaphorically 
and literally do the Wards collectively and sepa- 
rately fall upon her neck — including Donald — to 
welcome home, in Cricket’s phraseology, this new 
prodigal daughter. And Virginia knows suddenly 
and forever that love is best. In that moment, when 
regardless of all eyes, Donald catches her in his 
arms, she knows that not the wealth, not the pleas- 
ure, not the Golden House, of her girlish dreams 
can bring content, but only Love is Life’sbest gift. 

Fate, having driven home the lesson she desired, 
suddenly grounds her arms, and an unexpected leg- 
acy from the Scotch side of the house smooths the 
way for the tired feet. Oh, wedding-bells at last ! 
A joyous, joyous peal! 


4o6 


A Nest of Girls. 


Mrs. Ward broods over her dear new daughter 
with tenderness and love. Margaret, out of her 
own happy heart writes fond welcome. The col- 
legians, Cricket and Eunice, haunt the house of 
their gay sister. What if that house be modest and 
the simple establishment limited to one maid ? Vir- 
ginia knows how to do everything now. She is the 
joy and delight of her husband and both adore their 
two little daughters. Their home is the brightest, 
merriest place and as time goes on, and fortune im- 
proves, the glass shows it the centre of a charming 
little coterie. But Virginia asserts that Society in 
general is vapid and stupid. Oh, she is happy now 
and the world is all forgot ! 

What does the glass say of Margaret ? Turn it 
again. Oh, such a happy little story ! J ack Churchill 
does not forget the fascination of the liquid voice 
and pure, high-bred profile, and he sees her again 
and again. When he is out of college, he goes into 
his father’s business and thus in two or three years 
he can take Margaret to a home befitting her. She 
is radiantly happy, for not only is Jack the most re- 
markable individual that ever walked this fair earth, 
but he lives in Philadelphia, and they are near to her 
beloved Hester. Their eldest daughter is Hester’s 
namesake and godchild, and their little twin sons 
are the image of Kenneth Ward. Times of peace, 
write no history. Margaret Churchill reflects the 


Boarding-School Days. 407 

sunshine of her life on all around, and thanks God 
in wonder and awe for her happy days, — ideally 
happy, but for one dark page. 

Turn quickly. Will not the glass show a fair 
picture now ? Ah, it is life and not fancy, this 
mystic glass through which we read the fates. Yet 
surely it has but a rose-draped frame for Hester ? 
Hester, whose brave spirit and gallant leadership 
the world can ill spare ? Alas! who can tell who 
this queer world of ours really needs ? 

Hester goes with distinguished honors through 
her college course. Like Judith Champney, with 
her endowment of brains, she could do nothing else. 
She takes additional degrees in Germany. Wellesley 
offers her a chair which she proudly accepts, eager 
to take service under her Alma Mater, for great 
love of the work. Oh, the delight she anticipates ! 
Oh, fair work she will do ! Oh, grand opportunity to 
uphold to other women the ideal that makes her 
own life beautiful 1 This is what her girlish dreams 
all pointed to — power, responsibility, influence. 

“ Then I did wait; and oft at work I sang, 

‘ To minister! oh, joy, to minister! ’ 

And, it being known, a message came to me: 

‘ Whether is best, thou forest planter, wise, 

To minister to others, or that they 
Should minister to thee ? ' Then on my face 
Low-lying, I made answer: ‘ It is best. 


4o8 


A Nest of Girls. 


Most High, to minister ’ ; and thus came back 

The answer, — ‘ Choose not for thyself the best.’ ” 

Hester is at home, making arrangements to close 
the dear old house for the time being, as her wid- 
owed mother will go with her. She has never been 
far separated from her daughter since her boarding- 
school days. Margaret comes to see her one day. 
Together they stand on the steps for a farewell 
word, in the old school-girl fashion. Margaret says 
good-bye and goes down the steps, while Hester 
turns. How it happens no one can quite tell, but 
she slips on something, sways for her balance, misses 
it, — falls ; her spine strikes the cruel stone, and 
Hester Cameron is carried inta the house, a helpless 
burden of agony. 

Oh, those torturing months ! Turn, turn the 
glass. We cannot look at it. Nurses come and 
go. Doctors prod and probe. Oh, whirl of strange 
and horrible pain ! Everything is swallowed in the 
struggle of physical endurance. The pain of renun- 
ciation is not yet. She has one comfort in her be- 
loved Margaret, never many hours absent from her 
side. Mother and friend sustain her. 

Closer, tenderer, truer, grows the bond between 
them year by year. 

Shift the glass. Is there to be no brighter pic- 
ture ? These five years are a blur of pain-chequered 
nights and days to the brave, suffering creature, 


Boarding-School Days. 409 

who has once thought she had so much to do for 
the world that she could ill spare a moment's time. 
By her bedside Dr. Champney spends many an 
hour. To her constant and ingenious devices 
Hester owes some alleviation of her pain. The pas- 
sion of pity and love for the suffering creature slowly 
endows Judith with a new sense and as time goes 
on absolutely creates in her the tenderness that her 
nature lacks, a tenderness that reflects on many a 
torture-racked body. 

But the time has not been quite wasted. In the 
second year of her martyrdom, when there begin 
to be far apart but distinct intervals of lessening 
pain and occasional hours comparatively free, Hester 
dictates to Margaret, her faithful amanuensis, some 
of the thoughts that are the alleviation of her 
wakeful, weary nights. Her signature comes gradu- 
ally to be well known in the leading magazines; it 
is a synonym for exquisite, graceful fancies; for 
tender, heart-breaking bits; for the strength of 
renunciation and a note of victory. Not crushed 
is that valiant heart. Out of the passionate depths 
of her own broken lips she ministers to others 
more sorely wounded. Her vivid imagination, her 
trained powers, her knowledge of language, added 
to her eager, pitiful desire to “ help ” the world, 
which is no less strong than in her impetuous days 
of youth, when I will" meant “ I can," sweep 


410 


A Nest of Girls. 


her on, despite the chains of the flesh. Genius 
cuts its way through barriers of steel. No Milton 
may lie “ mute and inglorious.'’ Genius drives 
its own with thongs that permit no loitering, and 
Hester feels the lash that urges her on. Then 
comes her first book, that wonderful creation writ- 
ten out of the knowledge wrenched from those 
awful hours of darkness, the book that thrills all 
hearts. Where has Hester learned to know life, 
shut out from the world as she is, on a rack of tor- 
ture ? Ah, life has gripped her by the throat and 
one battlefield reveals all. 

Then two years later comes her second book, 
eagerly awaited by the literary world lest the rare 
promise of the first be not fulfilled. There is no 
fear. Hester has genius, and her book establishes 
this beyond a doubt. Her own little world, that 
faithful coterie of schoolmates and college chums, 
whose loyal love has always encircled that pain- 
drenched house as if it were a shrine, go nearly wild 
with pride and joy. Hester, through her own pain, 
her own almost unendurable disappointments, her 
own intolerable sufferings, her unflinching worship 
of her ideals, gains a wider audience a thousand- 
fold than had the dreams of her youth been realized. 
No smooth voyage down the stream of life shows us 
the dangers and pitfalls. Thou must suffer ere thou 
hast a message for the world. 


Boarding-School Days. 41 1 

Turn the glass. Look again. Oh, see! The 
light grows! We see Hester, the sufferer, and Mar- 
garet, soul-devoted friend, and the mother, torn 
with unavailing mother-love, brighten as they ac- 
knowledge with bated breath that the pain is surely 
growing appreciably less. Every physician knows 
that any injury to the spine is a law unto itself, so no 
one has either ventured to promise eventual recovery 
nor dared assert unending invalidism. It was J udith, 
finally, who first recognized shadowy symptoms of 
entire restoration. Oh, shift the glass quickly ! See ! 
Hester is on her feet. She can walk! The whole 
house is full of her bright presence once more after 
these weary, lagging years. Friends gather around 
her. Oh, bliss of living in days unstamped by pain ! 

Gone are the dreams of youth, but in their place 
are grander realities. 

Hester has found her sphere, for with her pen 
she rules her world. Wistful, earnest-hearted girls 
at the cross-roads of life, all armored for the fray, 
take a sudden look at the battle’s real possibilites, 
with a daunting glimpse of the truth that youth, in 
itself, cannot accomplish all things and revolu- 
tionize the world, and they go forward with an 
added caution that saves them from many a pitfall. 
Sorrow-bowed women write her fervent, pitiful 
thanks and bend to the burden of their lives with 
a new strength like wine in their veins. 


412 


A Nest of Girls. 


Hester’s books, distilled in the alembic of agony 
of body and torture of renunciation, and then in 
the pure joy of existence, spread a subtle, inex- 
plicable aroma that penetrates every heart. Always 
she strikes a triumphant note : Life is worth living 
and the victory may be to the Vanquished ! 


THE END. 







H 9 86 













V . 6?. 35 . • .--v V. V 

-.'^11^" .<;':> '^o 





x^r/k*' 

4 -clv 

^ ^ r ’ 

* 1 * V ♦ 

” 0 * ' 


S '*' 

’* "*0^ 

•' O « 0 ^ .0 ^ ^*11* * c « 0 







o. -'o • * '» A 


^O A^ 0 ® ® -» 

5 i- ^OV 


0 ^ o 


' ° j-° ■n#*, 

f° 

J 5 'IV' '> 

^ -ej. . 

,‘ ^ ■% - 




. 0 « o 

O • 

*• \ 

* ^ V 

• r\ 

.^o•^ ''i> 'Iv,- 

• ^ ,^‘'' ''-A A,-' ^ 

• aV''^ j 
'6 A V V^ • 

,V .••■'* 4 <4^^ r. O " O - ^ ^ .»■'•. 







L : 



a-. . 



'o^^* yV 



“v -✓ 

' > v' ,s.?X:* ^ aO^ .’•»' ■^^;> v' * 

? im-- •' 

JO c.^ o •* ^^lillld^^ ® ^ '^1% 

/\~ -r „ _ . A jk ♦ t ’ /.x- 




*...’ . 0 ' V .v*" 


f- 



/% '«WS‘* A^’^^ . •. 

Cr ^ 'o , * * A 






* r o '>W.' 0^°'^"'- 

^ 'o , * - A ^ s ^ .cr ^ 'o . * 

v'^ -t/*^ A ofV-r Oi^ 



^ V 


«5 


j.°-n#i 


' ” ° ’*o^° . ’ • "/V* * ' ’ *’ v'^^ ' • • CV' ‘ ' ° V° . • • »-' 


* aV-^ 

- -J.^ • 






o'*- A 


“\/ 


• aV-^ ■» 





ilii 









m 


!T?ff 



00025 bba 33‘1 


u 


i 


w 


\n\ 


ilSHi 



M' 




l’}Ti 




mm 


i 


Uih 


^\>i 




IMJ 






\A\\ 







. * J li 


lumi 


Yivuinn 


•aii 



'*X*\\\ 


tu' 









U! 


1 1', II I \i%i W tftltllr WM i i i f i’i ti iSt Viti n * Vll \ tju » i||f ii I 

Vt ■ <! i' ? ^ = I? ^ n-!! ■ V ■ t j* ? l^f^ I jUpaj 



I j " 

Us; 


H^ii; 




IM 


Lti‘ 


ftur 


irtii 


\iy^ 


l:;!;r' 


'tVtt 



m 


111 






\m 


Li 


ill! !«!!!;!«* 










r4«‘ ‘ i I I 


: M i iiri r i ' iU*i * ? *JwtVy 


wau 




f^4l] 


iWi 


iiLh 


m 


lEi 


;Vlli 


m 


j u? 






m 


iriiisn 


.ii\h\ 


:»K{ 


m\v. 




I 


.(Vsi 


rir>IMi 





uiHi 


mi 


mliih 






iSKitii 


Lii::i« 3 ;”:S-<;:=;-"i;r; ; 


i 


. -., 33 - i. ►,..., - - '.;-.ir.u?f j 

'im 


m 




, bh^b 


mi 


m 


Iiuirvcc'l: 




: 3 M!i!i 


■ i'M'’ 't* I 'T!‘c':| 

rlWtl ':-*i::' .'. :i 3 i; 


tjirSTii 71 • 

ri 

^iViV 


i 


mnr 

” "*jj i ^i'-jtffhi 

i\: r ■ 


mi) 

•■ is I 


liJ?-' 


3 iJUL 

uy,y. 


t: i J i - . ) > • 


‘i ..li v..; ,i';:i:k r;.-:- 

^‘.r;;,. m nmuTn 


r^z : : Vi] IWiJi: t] f r ’ 

aofi 


m\ 

Linjijrt:* 


IS 



Ilii 


lilitil 


iiLiun^vJMnvvEjly 




iiSpis 0,;;ilLJl|ilif“ 

Bitl'*/ v.tni;::3t: '311:1' (.null- iJ t: iJl 

:»■ i !v ;•! Up i j ) ?!■ ■ ;• ■ ■ rs ^'iiHiitSBfflr 


jjiPitiv 

m 



ri*'i?v'’: ; ;:--n 't )■ ;j -.jjJpjj 

ilfilisii ■ 

Miili!; ill*.- 


>;::i^iij-i 4 [;^' 




iwm 


H\‘^\ 


i 






li 








